It comes around…and around

It was the second day at Disney World when I realized it. Hailey was laughing her seven-year-old ass off as Victor spun us on the tea cups until we finally cried whiplash. The weather was gloomy and occasionally hurricaney (that’s a word. Stop judging me) but we were at Disney World and so everything was magical. Except in my head. I enjoyed myself and I’m so glad we did it, but the second day I realized that my peripheral vision was fading and that’s always a sign that a bout of depression is looming down toward me.

I was fine the first day. I was tired the next. The third day I wanted nothing other than to stay in bed, but instead I faked it. I still enjoyed seeing Hailey so happy. I still appreciated being able to spend real time with my family. I still functioned. I’m still functioning.

Maybe this time I’ll be able to fool myself into staving off a severe bout. Maybe it was just a fluke and it will all pass quickly. Maybe I just postponed the inevitable depression that will hit me any moment. I don’t really know.

But what I do know is that I’m going to be okay. I know that depression lies. I know that I’ll be in this black hole again and again in my life. I also know I’ll see daylight soon. The spinning continues…in both good ways and bad.

I realize how incongruous that picture is in a post about depression but it’s also pretty incongruous that some of the funniest people I know suffer from mental illness so all bets are off.

But there was one thing I wanted to share. At one point the ride we’d been waiting on was closed because a terrible rainstorm broke out so we ran for cover and hid under the monorail for some shelter. It was fairly miserable and all I could think about it how I wanted to be dry and in bed and how I felt bad for Hailey that she was stuck in a closed park with no access to rides and that’s when I noticed that she was having the most fun she’d had all day just jumping in the enormous puddles and catching rain in her mouth. Rain that had dripped off the monorail and probably gave her cholera, but still…she was so damn furiously happy. She took what came at her and made it into joy.

This isn’t a post about forcing yourself to just smile and “be happy” because anyone with true depression knows this isn’t an option. Instead, it’s about the good things that can come out of the bad. In the past 5 years I’ve received 20 emails that I keep in a very special folder. They are all from people who were looking suicide right in the face. They are all from people who are still here now. Mothers and fathers and daughters and sons who are still alive because of this blog. And not because of my posts. They’re alive because they saw the incredibly response to my posts. They saw thousands of other people saying “Me too.” “I thought it was just me.” “I thought I was alone. But I’m not.” And that – that sense of community – convinced them what their mind could not…that depression lies. That you can find help. That therapy and medication and support can change lives. And I want to thank you for that. I want to thank you from the family and friends of 20 people whose lives you saved.

And I want to thank you for reminding me every day that depression does lie. I want to thank you for telling me that it’s okay when I have a week when I simply can’t be funny. But mostly I want to thank you because there are 20 people out there today who wouldn’t be in this world if it weren’t for you. There are 20 more of us. And that’s a good thing. So maybe there’s a reason why I have depression. And maybe it’s to help someone else. And maybe there’s a reason you do too. And maybe you saved a life without even knowing it. Thank you.

I really admire your bravery. (Not only for being so open about your depression, but for riding those nauseating tea cups!) My husband suffers from severe depression and reading your blog has helped me understand what he’s going through just a little bit more. It’s made me a better wife.

Twenty lives is huge. What we can accomplish when we stop worrying about what everyone else thinks and just decide to be open and honest never ceases to amaze me. Bravo.

You are so strong. It makes me sad how many people aren’t willing to see that it gets better. I’ve lost two friends to their own hand, and I’ve seen the devastation that follows. With a beautiful daughter like yours, there’s always a light to look forward to.

Just what I needed to read, as I feel myself spiraling down. I’m trying to enjoy or appreciate one or two little things every day, but I just keep getting that awful “What’s the POINT???!!” feeling. I need to remember that depression lies, and that it will pass. Thanks for reminding me.

And you’re a brave soul to even take on Disney World. It’s my idea of one of the circles of hell. The things we do for our kids, huh?

That is powerful! I love being a part of this community.
I am crying as I read this because my Mom suffers from life long depression and I relate to you both; though I’ve managed some pretty fierce depression coping skills growing up in that environment.
Power to you ALL!

Your posts like this just make my heart feel like it’s going to explode. Both because of the people who have been helped and because you have such wonderful clarity about how impossible depression can be…but that it doesn’t have to be. Thank you.

Simply beautiful. And thank you for the reminder…it pays to get furiously happy, and not the other way around.
I also want to remind YOU…those 20 are just the ones who said something. There may be, and likely are, many more that haven’t said something.
You, and then by extension the rest of us, change the goddamn world.

I’m so glad you and your daughter have each other. You seem to be so hopeful in spite of what you have (and because of what you have). I love reading your blog and value your honesty as much as your humor. Thanks for sharing.

My husband has cyclical depression and anxiety that flares up regularly.

Through the years, I’ve gotten better at being supportive in a way that actually helps but I have to say, your posts have given me more tools. Even though it seems blindingly obvious that the voices of depression and anxiety lie, I never thought to *say* that to him… and now I do. And he’s started repeating it to himself when in the throes of a panic.

So thank you for that. And for being so freaking hilarious in general.

I love the four pictures of Hailey on the teacups. Thank you for being brave. Depression does lie and I hope if this is the beginning of another dark hole you end up in china very quickly. (I think this comment makes sense.)

I’m crying now. Just *this post* at *this moment* for me. Because I’ve been staving off depression too. Because I write a humor blog, and yet sometimes pulling out the funny is the hardest thing. Because sometimes I fake it for my family. Because sometimes the only thing I can do is tell my husband I need to take another shower just to escape the anxiety. Thank you. Thanks for red dresses and silver ribbons and for building community among all of us who say, “me too.”

I think some of the most fun I’ve ever had has been dancing in the rain or making a ridiculous prat of myself for the simple pleasure of it. Those furiously happy moments are what I hold onto whenever things lie me low (even when there’s ample external cause). Because of you (and all your fantabulous followers), I think “Depression, you lying bastard,” and continue on the struggle.

So I’ll second those thank.

PS. And those teacups are a blast, aren’t they? My best Disney memories involve Dad spinning us in those.

The depression I face has never been severe, but I understand the darkness all too well. My work also gives me the opportunity to walk with people in the darkness. Your humor and your honesty are refreshing and healing. Thanks for being there, in the rain as well as the sunshine.

Ugh,wtf just happened. I am trying to recommend Post Secret as the sale of these books have gone to funding a national suicide hotline in the memory of a woman who killed herself after her baby died. This site is therapeutic,funny,sad,ugly,beautiful and maddening, And it shows that we are all connected-we all have secrets and joy and pain that burdens us. It is WONDERFUL,and a lot of school’s have adopted a project very similiar. When you deel the holw coming on,go to this site,the post secret fb /community pages and the beautiful youtube videoas people have been nspired to make. You may not feel better,but I PROMISE you won’t feel so alone…

The Internet and the communities here was one of several things that saved my life when I fell down the rabbit hole some years back, and it meant so much to me that at first I wanted to create a community here as well, one that reaches out to others and says you’re not alone, but I quickly came to realize that there are days, sometimes on end, that I can’t bear to respond to blog posts, comments, messages, and that while a community may eventually become self-sustaining, it has to be nourished to be built in the first place. Also I apparently don’t know how to use periods. Anyway, I want to say thanks for being one of us crazies sane enough to make a place where we can pull together and pull ourselves up and lift each other up sometimes. I’m so glad to be able to contribute a little bit here and on Twitter, thanks for making a place for us to do that. And I really hope whatever tunnel you pass into next, whenever that may be, is a short one that doesn’t smell too dank.

Thanks for posting this. I’d love to say something pithy or profound but I think you’ve covered it all very nicely. Sometimes life is hard and it’s dark and you don’t want to get out of bed. BUT there are moments of such happiness that remind you that life isn’t ALWAYS like that. Stay strong. 🙂

The fact that you save ONE person is huge. That one person can save one more person, and so on, and so on, and so on… I’m not trying to sound like that creepy shampoo commercial from the 70’s at all here. You do good things here, Jen. Seriously. You make us laugh, you make us cry, you make us laugh until we cry. But we hear you and we love reading you every single day. I may not speak for everyone (though I’m sure my family swears that I try to every time I open my mouth), but I’ll be happy to say THANK YOU for making MY life better.

Thank you — thank you for your honesty, and for providing a space and forum that made it possible for 20 people (that you know of, and probably more) to find the community and support they needed at their most difficult times.

I love you.
Like, a lot.
And every time I get scared because I need to be open about my mental illness and I don’t want people to think that I’ m “crazy”, I remember how much relief I’ve gotten from reading your blog and knowing that I’m not alone.

I suffer anxiety, and luckily not depression. But my parents made me feel guilty for not getting over it. I couldn’t drive, I would become terrified in large crowds, I would panic in traffic jams. I saw the toll it was taking on my husband, trying to help me and do all the driving. One day, I had had enough. Went to the doc, told him I couldn’t function anymore and told him no xanax. I have four kids and needed to be able to function. He put me on Lexapro. Three weeks in, the change was astounding. I could do things with no fear! I could drive, I could handle a shopping mall or an outdoor event. I will never be ashamed to take medication that I so obviously need. No matter how bad my parents try to make me feel. Thank you for shedding a light on the darkness that mental illness can be! Love you!

I deal with depression as well. With help from medication I can make it through the day. When my meds ran out I spent most days in tears. I am lucky enough that mine is not severe enough to contimplate suicide, but it still hard to handle some days. It helps when you have a wonderful support system.

I don’t know if I’ve written a response to your depression posts; I suspect not, but I have gotten to the point where I am comfortable talking about damn near anything with damn near everyone, so it’s not the big deal it once would have been. But in case I didn’t before, for all 20 of those email senders and anyone who hasn’t but maybe needs to:
I suffer from depression. I have for most of my adult life. I tried to kill myself when I was 18. I am now 31. I am still here, and though I sometimes feel like I shouldn’t be, that I and the world would both be better off if I wasn’t, I know better. Depression lies to me with my own voice, but I know when it’s me talking and when it isn’t, and you can learn to tell the difference too. You can learn to survive yourself. ❤

The black holes. Over time and through experience I’m learning to create a “bunker” to huddle in during those periods. It consists watching a lot of TCM and napping, and sometimes sobbing into an old monogrammed hankie of my Dad’s. Re-reading all of Nancy Drew. Ice cream.

For years I’ve wondered – if there is extra-strength Excedrin for really bad headaches, why not extra-strength Prozac for really bad days?

Keep going, kiddo. Good for you for learning to recognize the lies and wait for them to pass. Your daughter is probably having WAY more fun at DisneyWorld because the rain is keeping the crowds down! Yes, it’s a theme park, but it’s a really clean, really well-run theme park, and to a child it is MAGICAL! Enjoy her enjoying it, and when the depression passes, you will have so much fun looking at the pictures and going over the memories!

After a horrible day yesterday where I just wanted to drink until I didn’t think about anything but the bottom of the glass (I didn’t) , and today where it seems like no one understands (they do), this post made me cry again, but in a good way. Depression does lie. People do understand. We are not alone. Thank you for posting this. It’s hot here and I wish it would rain so I could go out in it, and dance, and smile, and drink the rain from the gutter which would probably give me gutter-herpes. I love you Jenny-from-the-Blog, and thank you for posting things that make sense to us, and that make sense to no one else.

Big Sniffs here! My BFF suffers and I have had small bouts myself. Sometimes it takes just one good thing to help you put your situation in perspective. So sorry you go through this and so many others have to. Its a wonderful thing to have people know that they can get help and see others who are in the same situation. You have been that for people and you have to be proud of that!

somedays i get tired of pretending – of wearing that happy face mask so other people are more comfortable to be around me. you are my go-to blog. when i need to touch base with someone else who get’s me even though we have never met. being able to laugh out loud at some of your posts are just a bonus.

I just want to point out the beautiful gift of joy that you gave your daughter. She’s obviously having so much fun! Keep going! You can do it! Because you’ve got a precious little girl who is having so much fun and that’s a helluva reason to power through if you can.

I don’t come here simply because you are funny (that’s a very welcome extra) – I come here because you are a fascinating and entertaining person, a person who isn’t simply here for the fame or the recognition. You are here because you are HONEST, you aren’t afraid for people to know you aren’t perfect (because none of us are!)

The fact that your site shows the world it is fine to have issues, is a great gift to those lucky enough to find it, because the world is a terrifying place for the most simple and insignificant reasons. I look at things and where before I’d think to myself “I really cannot do this” – I now think “at least I don’t have my hand in a cow’s vagina!”

Thank you, and thank you to everyone who has helped anyone with doubts about life

You are beautiful. Inside and out (though, obviously, inside matters more). Thank you for this lovely post, which I am sure will help reach out to make others feel better yet again. xoxoxo to you for your awesomeness.

While I love all of your posts and the funny pee-in-your-pants one are totally awesome, posts like today really do me so much good. I can get so bogged down in stuff that pulls at you and seems to chew chunks out of your soul, it’s easy to forget that I need to find a puddle to jump in during a rainstorm. Thanks for the reminder. Sending you warm thoughts that “this too shall pass” quickly.

I needed this so desperately today as I sit trying to be ‘on’ at work, in an actual office, far from home and bed and comforting surroundings. I am where everyone thinks that everything here, that everything, is… right and inside I feel so wrong and so alone and so…singular, in a sea of faces and interactions. Thank you Jenny. Thank you Jenny lovers. Thank you.

I’m sitting here crying because I’m staring one of the happiest moments in my life right in the face and all I want to do is get in bed and pull the blankets over my head. I hate anxiety, I hate depression, I hate having to feel like I have to fake it all the time. It’s getting bad enough that it’s causing physical issues, which is doubly scary for someone who worries uncontrollably. Thanks for letting me know I’m not alone. I needed that today.

Normally your posts make me laugh until I cry. Today this one made me cry.
Thank you for reminding me on a day I needed it that “depression lies”
“This post isn’t about depression.
It’s about laughing in spite of the rain.
It’s about laughing because of the rain.”

I just found you today when I did a “Most Awesome Blogs of 2012” search, and you are now on my list of “Sites that feed by blog addiction.” Ironically, the day I wrote the post below, I found your site not knowing anything about it … and then I read the post you wrote today and … well, I don’t believe in coincidences. Thank for the honesty.

I’m going to bet it’s a lot more than 20. Some of us aren’t courageous enough to admit that we stare suicide in the face almost every day. I’ve never been able to say out loud that maybe prescribing me a bottle of ambien might just be the worst idea ever. Or that just maybe if I go off my diabetes meds and eat all the candy in the house that I won’t have to get up tomorrow, or ever again. You’ve taught me not to give in to lying voices that are almost constantly screaming in my head. This community of misfits has shown me that even though I feel alone, worthless and overwhelmingly sad that I have a tribe out there. I wish it would rain here just so I could go dance in it.

This shit is hard. It always will be, I’m sure. But knowing that depression lies, and being able to tell it to shut its lying whore mouth are two vastly different things. I wish I could always see the light in everything like children, like Hailey even with a potential bout of the runs, seem to be able to. When do we lose that, that ability to just be happy with what IS? I value you, Jenny: your truth, your rawness, your honesty, your weirdness, your boobs…wait

I used to think that people suffering from depression were possibly exaggerating. Then I went on Percoset for a ruptured disc and cut back on the dosage too fast (I went from 10 pills a day to 2)

Holy fucking shit. By the end of the day I was having serious thoughts about downing the entire bottle of pills. I told my wife. We compromised and I took one pill to see if that would help – and the black cloud evaporated in about 10 minutes.

I was able to take a pill and feel almost instantly better. I can’t imagine having to deal with this on any kind of regular basis. The reason I told my wife how I was feeling is because I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it if I woke up the next day feeling the same way.

I’ve always said that the funniest bitches I know are the one’s who have been through Hell and came out the other side. Blogging got me through depression, struggles with alcohol and disordered eating, and a hideously ugly “Lifetime Movie of the Week” divorce. We are all out there. We all have our shit. We are never alone.

It does lie. I was just thinking that how great it is you have that filter that allows you to glimpse the crazy wild abandon happiness around you and know that you will come around to it again. In a way, your blog is handing that filter out to anyone who needs it. Pretty fucking cool.

Your daughter resembles you so much. She has your expression and holds herself the way you do. She is beautiful like you. She just sparkles, truly.

I hope it passes quickly.

You are pretty amazing but I must admit the thing I am in awe of right now is that you came up with a tagline for depression! When I’m depressed it’s more like ‘gurgle’ or ‘don’t talk to me’ or ‘I hate myself.’ Not some life saving motto. So that’s just incredible. A life-saving anti-depression tagline. Words fail me.

I love this post, because Hailey is SO HAPPY in all those pictures. She won’t let rain or weather ruin her trip. 🙂
90% of the time when I’m not down, I like to laugh at myself. when things go wrong I try to find the funny in it.
Last week I set the stove on fire. It was a huge surprise! Butter had fallen below the coil and then while I was BOILING WATER, the stove caught fire.
But guess what? I overfilled the pot, and the flames caused it to boil violently, thus boiling over and putting out the fire! See?? It was like I PLANNED to put out the fire with Pasta water!
My Husband was less amused by the fire… Possibly because I was laughing my ass off.
I said if he wants to avoid it happening again he’ll get me a new stove. HE says he REFUSES to get me a knew stove, or I won’t LEARN anything. Bah.
🙂
Liz

I posted a link to a blog, Jenny and readers. A friend of mine is documenting people who have survived suicide, and she is doing it to remove the stigma that some with depression and suicide. The portraits are simple, as are the words, but the point is that everyone on that list is still here because of someone or something. It’s a beautiful and powerful story. I encourage you to check it out – because my husband also appears. He also suffers from depression and if he had followed through with his attempt, I would not be married to the most wonderful, supportive, kind, funny man that I am today. I would never have known him and my life would be distinctly different. Please, check out http://livethroughthis.org/ and see that there is a community out there.

Two things: One, the thing about the peripheral vision being a warning sign is a total “OMG I though I was the only one” revelation and two, I’m driving 14 hours Friday to see my family and taking you on audiobook with me.

Because of you and all of the lovely people in your tribe, I’ve been able to show my sometimes frustrated and bewildered husband that what I go through is shared by SO many others. This is one of those periods when I’m isolating myself and sleeping far too much and not concentrating enough on work (and I’m our only source of income right now) and all I want to do is sit around and watch stupid shows on TV like “Hoarders” because it reminds me how blessed I am to be merely anxious and depressed. But I refuse to let the lying SOB win. Because I know that even if I fall into the rabbit hole, I’ll climb back out again. Courage and peace to you, my friend. Take a week, or two, or three without any pressure from us…because we love you, and we understand.

You are such an inspiration. Thank you so much. I think any of us who suffer from depression know EXACTLY what you’re talking about. I’ve been writing for the past month about mine and I have gotten SO many private messages from friends and family who say they are going through the exact same struggle, people who I thought had it all together, who I envied because their lives were normal. Now I realize they are just like me. Crazy in the best possible way. Thank you for writing inspite of the rain… or because of it. Just put your cape on 😉

Just when I needed it most…thank you so much. You are so amazing. You have inspired me, and you have given me the courage to ask for help. I still have my days when I’m staring into those pits, and there are days when I’m in them. But, now the pits aren’t so deep…it isn’t as hard to climb out. Thank you for being you.

I am certain that YOU have saved more lives than you know. You certainly changed mine. This blog, your incredible sense of life, changed my life. It saved me during a very dark time. Thankfully, I haven’t hit that scary bottom of depression where I wanted to end my life but I have been so lost in the dark that all I could feel was the sensation of drowning in life. When I found your blog I was most certainly in a dark place. Then I met Beyonce and I think that was the first time i had laughed, really laughed so hard that tears streamed down my face, in a very long time. Every week you make me smile at the very least. Even during those times when you “simply can’t be funny” your bravery and courage to share those painful moments gives me strength. YOU ARE AMAZING! ❤ and hugs

Depression lies. And one of the lies it tells me most often is that because I’m broken, I could only ever have a broken, screwed-up child, so I should never try. Seeing your daughter’s beautiful, happy face helps me remember that I can be broken without breaking other things and other people. Reading your words helps me remember that even if I have a broken child, she can be loved and supported and happy and there are people out there who will take care of her on the days that I can’t. Thank you.

Thank you. For being open and honest and sincere and wonderful. My 13 yr old daughter has severe depression and battles the suicidal thoughts and lies. Each time it surfaces I pray for it to hit me and not her. And then realize that I can’t take it away, but I can be there to support her whatever way she needs my support. And then when it passes, my funny, beautiful, smart little girl is still there enjoying every minute of life that she can – because she can. I am more and more thankful every day that the world is starting to accept and understand mental illness. Hopefully the road for her will not be too hard, and the people that she meets in life will be strong and supportive. No matter what, she’ll have me – I won’t always be able to help or do the right things, but I will try and try and try.

Dear Jenny, There are loads of ‘funny’ people on the web or where ever, but what sticks me to you is that you are also deep and authentic and intimate. Some of this is probably a result of your disease. I am so sorry you have this, and I wish somehow one day you will stumble on some way to keep it at bay, but it does also have a positive side. It seems you have used this suffering as a tool to grow your humanity. You have saved 20 people from death, but thousands (millions?) more for just feeling alone or like freaks. Lots of love! Niki

Stay strong! Sometimes you can fight it off, and sometimes you can’t, but either way you’ll make it through!

I know that summer, a recent hectic schedule, and what I would assume is some (at least) stress from the new book can throw things off kilter. Yet, you describing the peripheral vision thing… that gave me goosebumps! I have that. And the light looks different– muted. And my nerves feel electric, and I don’t want to be touched. I never figured anyone else experienced anything like this!

I just love, love, love you. Thank you so much for making me smile even when I’m sure you don’t mean to…I mean, you don’t even know me. Thank you for calling depression to the carpet and telling that whore bitch liar what was it. Thank you for sharing yourself and your experiences with me day in and day out. I hope to have a strawberry hill wine slushie or 10 with you sometime. It’s on my bucket list. Oh, and your daughter is so cute it’s awesomesauce.

Love the pics of your daughter.
Another “me too” here. Depression lies AND it makes me think I’m the center of my world. Which can be a good thing, but Depression means it in the not-good way. Despite what Depression says, my misery is NOT all about me. Everything that feels so bad about me is only a fraction of my place in my whole world. You know how I know? Because the sun keeps rising. Because my dog keeps wanting me to knuckle-rub around his ears. Because my daughter and her daughter still love me. Because my other daughter, Alice, still likes to sit with me to look at old pictures of her. Including the ones of her in THE DISNEY ALICE DRESS A LA HAILEY!!!!
See what I did there? Came full circle back to Disney. Because that is the true center of the world.

I am bipolar. I rarely said it until I found your blog. I thought the world would hate me for it. So many people thought I was just an introvert because I didn’t go out places and I didn’t talk to new people often. I always thought my depression was the truth and my mania was the lie. Then one day I was searching taxidermy and BAM there you were in all your glory. I went back to your very first post and bookmarked it. Everytime I feel sad I hide in my closet and read your blog. I watched your youtube videos, I bought your book, this community of misfits became my people. I have left only one other comment on your blog and a few days ago I emailed you about the Miami naked zombie and I freaked out when you emailed me back. Only 2 words but you emailed me. Then I read this and realize how hard those 2 words must have been to get out. You can make that 21 people because finally I can say you helped me realize it is ok to be me. I am Amber, I am 30, and I am bipolar.

Depression lies. The only truth is this: you are not alone. Someone, somewhere, knows you. They know the crazy depths we plunge to. They know the giddy highs. They know that there is no middle ground. They know that we long for and fear the middle ground simultaneously. And they love us anyway, or maybe even because of this. MISFITS FOR LIFE.

A Post Secret video. Post Secret is a blog and the proceeds of the books made from these anonymous postcaeds have gone on to Fund a National Suicide Hotline. This is my favorite,and worth a watch to laugh an cry and realize we are all alone,together….

Yeah, so I really wanted to kill myself recently. It’s such a razor’s edge. You’re spot on, and it DOES feel strange to keep going, especially to keep smiling, over and over again when the day is dark. I am consistently shocked and delighted-and glad I’m not dead- when the fog lifts and I come back to the world.

Thank you for writing this. Thank you for sharing with everyone that depression lies. And that you can’t just snap out of it, not even in the Happiest Place on Earth. For those of us who have, and continue to battle with depression, it’s nice knowing that there are others out there. That we’re not alone. And that we’re not crazy for not being able to go get ice cream and watch a funny movie and get over it.

I am proud of you for going out there and spending the day with your daughter even though it’s not what depression wanted you to do. I know how hard that is, and I know you don’t know me, but I am still so very proud.

I recently had a HORRIBLE panic attack, one that washed over me like a tsunami wave and dragged me under. It threatened to take me out to sea. But I picked up your book, wrapped myself up in a blanket, and cried as I read.

I’m crying as I write this. Your words and story kept me from going under. THANK YOU, for me and my family.

This post brought tears to my eyes. You are a beautiful soul, and I can’t imagine what this world would be like without you in it. Victor and Hailey (who is adorable!) are very lucky people. Although I don’t know what it is to suffer from depression, I’ve had issues with other things, and it always helps to talk about it, and to find out that you aren’t alone. It’s inspiring that you are so open to talk about your difficulties and to share them with people so they know that they aren’t the only ones struggling to make it to the next day. You and your readers have blessed the lives of so many, and I hope everyone continues to remind themselves that no matter how bad it may seem, there are always people out there who wouldn’t know what to do without them in thier lives and will do what it takes to get them through their rough patches until they can enjoy the sun again.

There’s great power to the knowledge that “It’s Not Just Me”… Knowing that you are not alone in situations where you feel like you’re the only person who has ever been in that situation is absolutely life-changing.

There is no doubt in my mind that you and this community have saved more than 20 people… as someone else said, there are 20 that wrote and told you. There are 20(0?00?) more who decided to live but couldn’t tell ANYONE that they had even made that decision. Carry on, good Lady! The Tribe of Intellectual Misfits has got your back!

Depression lies. It always lies. And it’s sneaky, and sometimes manages to get other people (who don’t understand depression) to tell you the same lies. Gives it some veracity. They’re still goddamn lies.

You truly are an inspiration to me. I have suffered from depression for most of my adult life. I have been alone for most of it. I’m a 33 year old single woman with no children. I work two jobs, own my home and car. I live in rural MN with no hope of ever finding someone to share my life with… So I work all the time because besides that, and reading your blog it’s about the only thing that keeps me from ending this endless cycle i am stuck in. Day after day, the same thing, work one job, then the second, then read, then sleep, then it starts all over again…. i’m weak, I have my down days, and I still think about just disappearing most of the time. No one would notice if I was gone… except maybe my employer….after all who would cover his ass while he’s gone?

Depression does lie. God knows how wonderful it was to read that phrase here, for me, awhile back.

You do help people – not just in providing a space on the web where others can go to get confirmation that they aren’t alone in what they are going thru, which is so great, but also because you make people laugh. I can depend upon you to make me laugh, and geez sometimes that’s unbelievably important.

And yes, it is too so important. For everyone, not just those fighting what Churchill called the black dog.

Which I hate, by the way, since I have two wonderful black dogs. Why he didn’t use black weasels or black moles or black slimy eels I don’t know. Black slimy eel, now THAT I identify with. Okay, I digress.

It is amazing to me that your blog has saved 20 people. I’m honored to even read this blog, be able to write a comment. My mind boggles, my eyes tear up … I’ll think more on this later.

What I’m doing here, now, is trying to send you waves of encouragement. Give back a bit in some teensy way.

You’re not alone. Everything is going to be alright. Tomorrow is another day. They still make chocolate. Taco Cabana is not that far and they have a 24 hour drive thru.

Vote for fluke.

I remember after two weeks of horrific stress my now ex-husband planned this big trip to Napa Valley within 72 hours of my last law school final exam – no thought about where I wanted to go, or when would be a good time for me – and I went. Went without comment. Exhausted on the way, practically comatose and incoherent on the way back. The plane ride to and from San Antonio to San Francisco almost had me calling the men with white coats from those little handsets in the seats.

I learned piles from that. Pile of events or stress or whatever. I avoid piles now. Reading this post, DisneyWorld is wonderful after all the book touring, tho I bet I had lots more wine in Napa Valley but a pile is a pile and geez. Hon, you need a nap.

Cheese too would be good. Hey, what happened to that cheesecake eggroll? (Why aren’t you selling those babies on the site? You could be on QVC.)

Enough. I’m rambling and I’m going to read this mess and decide whether or not to send it. If you get this, I will have overcome potential embarrassment and well, … fear (I’m writing OneofMyFavoriteAuthors here) … to try and throw in my own little attempt at making you feel better. To help you fight the Black Slimy Eel.

Depression lies and it just flat out sucks, too. Fluke! Fluke is good.

I’ve never commented before but I wanted to say thank you…reading your posts reminds me constantly that depression does lie and that there are so many others out there. Your red dress campaign was/is utterly brilliant and I love it.

(I also love puddle jumping and love seeing how happy my son is to play in puddles too!)

Each time you post a new blog I try into an excited school girl and can’t wait to read it. I just finished your book and I can’t remember the last time (if ever) I laughed and cried so hard over and over because of a book. The best part of it all? It isn’t how funny and witty you are (even though you are damn funny and witty.) It is because you are REAL! Your honesty in your writing does far more than entertain people, you inspire people. I have fought with depression most of my adult life, out of the blue my mother tried to commit suicide a year and half ago (thank God she is still here and getting the help she needs), now I am struggling with infertility issues. YOU and your writing have helped me face these issues head on. (I am sure many friends would look at me strange if they heard me say this. I hear it now “The big metal chicken lady helped you with depression? Are you using drugs and not the legal kind?”) But it is true. I just hope some day I can be brave enough to be as honest with the tough stuff on my blog so that by chance I too can help pay it forward in my own quirky way!

As always, your honesty and and straight-forward views (without peripheral vision, apparently!) are always refreshing. It’s so important for everyone to understand that sometimes it’s ok to not be ok, and it you aren’t ok for too long, there are options. I think one of my biggest defenses is to always remember that things are temporary. It doesn’t solve the problem, but it makes it a little more manageable.

I loved seeing the pictures on Twitter of Hailey! She looks so damn happy.

Depression lies. If you need to lay in bed, then I say lay in bed. I don’t know what that deep, dark place is like but I am willing to sit with you while you’re there with a case (machine? bottles? cans? clap your hands?) of wine slushies.

Next time I have a panic attack, I am going to go outside, set the hose so I can pretend it’s raining, and jump in the puddles and catch water in my mouth. I bet it works better than Xanax which turns me into a raving bitch for three days after I take it. Thanks for the great idea Hailey!

And Jenny – thanks for the beautiful post. And to the 20 – so glad you are still with us. My college roommate is not and I miss her every day. To everyone suffering – even if you think no one would notice – someone would. Jenny would. I would. The rest of us would. We want you here. That’s true. Depression is lying, but we’re not.

Just found my way out of one of what we call my “bad patches”. I’ve suffered from depression and anxiety for pretty much my entire life; the meds help immensely but every now and then they’re just not enough. Thank god my husband and two beautiful daughters are understanding and are always there when I come out the other side. Jenny, you’re a beautiful person and you’ve helped me understand just how not-alone I am :). Oh, and by the way, I’m a riot…

i guess i’m one of the lucky ones — lucky ’cause depression doesn’t visit me or plague me like it does so many others. in point of fact, i refer to myself as High Priestess of Happy, Church of Yay, actually, which probably annoys the shit out of some people, but it’s true: i can’t help my Pollyanna Disorder, it’s just part of me. So it does me so much good to read you, to be reminded of how hard and dark and bleak things can be — to consider what is for me such a different way of being. Mostly I wish I could magically transport you to my house, to sit outside in the garden with me and eat cookies and drink tea with lots of sugar in it and just bliss out on how gorgeous things can be, on the outside of what’s going on inside our funny little minds. Big love to you for your courage and for always, always keeping it real. XO

*sigh* I look at her and I remember what it was like being at DW when I was 6 and I want that back again. I don’t think I was quite as furiously happy as Hailey there; I don’t know that I really ever was. Not fully. Maybe. Shit, who knows. I’m 35. That was nearly 30 years ago. I can’t remember last month.

First, sorry about Beryl…we Floridians are used to that nonsense, but as Texans, you had to be gazing around glassy-eyed occasionally going “WTF’s all this wet stuff?!” Second, whose bright idea was it to plan a significant family vacation right after you gallavanted all over a small chunk of the US, spreading your life force? Someone who knows you should have stepped back and said, “wow, yea, nice idea, but you need to spend a week in bed first…and endure wine slushies on command.”

We love you, Jenny! So many of us have been where you are and know that when all you can do is function, it is OK because eventually you will be able to do more than that…Sending virtual hugs from another silver ribboned sister!

Amen…Once I finally accepted that no mother should be this exhausted all of the time, and that no one should want to hide at the end of the day in her bed, hoping for absolutely no interaction from anyone for at least 10 hours, I was able to accept the fact that I might need a little help. With the help of some meds and plenty of talking, I am a much better mother and wife. Not to mention, just feeling a ton better. Depression is a real illness that strikes without much warning. I have fought it on and off throughout my adult life, and I have to admit, it was one of your posts that actually helped me ask for help again. I am feeling happy and balanced these days. I know all too well that it will strike again, but I am ready to recognize it for what it is, and I have a wonderful, supportive husband and family. Hope you are feeling better soon, and thanks for all you do to make people more aware.

Your daughter is totally awesome! Trust a kid to have fun when you think they possibly cant! As a person suffering from mild depression, and having a really hard time of it, I find it hard to imagine it being worse than what I have. It is pretty inspirational to hear you go through these bouts, and come out fighting. I love reading your blog. It makes me laugh, and it makes me cry. If you sink into it, and puch your way out, come see us! We will be waiting for you!

Such a touching post, those of us suffering from depression know exactly how you feel. Luckily I was put on anti-depressants years ago and they work fairly well for me. I tell my docs they will wean me off them when they pull them from my cold, dead fingers. That is the difference they make in my life. It isn’t all sunshine and butterflies but it sure keeps the darkness at bay. Hang in there.

First, I’d like to apologize on behalf of Florida for the hurricane-y weather. I cancelled my cable last year so this is my first hurricane season w/o the Weather Channel telling me what’s up, so let me just say, I was as shocked as you were to find my Monday full of random rainstorms.

Second, you are amazing. I probably should have said this one first. I’m glad you find reasons to laugh in spite of and because of the rain, and I’m glad you’re able to remember that depression lies. And if you’ve got 20 e-mails you’ve saved showing that 20 lives have been saved because of your blog, I’d have to say that you’re probably number 21. You found a way to be yourself and to spread love and support to people who need it. I feel like your blog saved you just as much it it’s saved others, and that’s pretty spectacular. 🙂

im glad you took the time to write even if you wernt quite feeling it. depression and anxiety is a tough thing and the higher stress your job/blog/just being your amazing self becomes the more it wants to rear its ugly little head.. but no matter what bring you down, you are a go getter and you have accomplished a great deal. just make sure as you are planning your next venture/signing/book you take time for yourself becasue sometimes a moment to breath and scream at the world is what it takes to keep us afloat.

Your openness and sharing about depression and other forms of mental illness and ripping the shame and isolation off them is so important. (And I just finished your audio book and I am seriously sad that it is over. It helped me laugh at life — and taxidermy — and has been my favorite part of my days recently.)

I have never had depression and I’m hoping I will never have. I am basically a happy person and realize that although I read you I will never really understand fully or relate exactly to what you say. But what I do understand are the huge efforts you make, the struggle and the fighting. And the courage. And for that I praise you, I stand up before you all suffering and send you all my love, my strength, my support and above all, my admiration

This post is 5 kinds of awesome, Jenny. Thank you so much for being a depression spokesperson for us.

When my depression hits, I remind myself that the things depression says are not only lies, but they aren’t even really about me – they are really just a symptom of a disease that I experience from time to time. At least, I try to remember that. When my stomach is sick, it throws up it’s contents (not my fault). When my brain is sick, it throws out it’s yucky stuff, too (also not my fault).

I read this blog post today, and then I read it out loud for my wife & daughter. There were a few moments when I had to stop and collect myself, a fact which both touched and amused my daughter simultaneously. None of us suffer from depression, but your posts have given me an insight that more people should have. You and your blog commenters aren’t just helping those who suffer from depression. You’re helping the rest of us be better, more understanding people.

I love, love, love the series of picts with Hailey spinning. Really cool. 🙂

And thank you for writing a blog that makes us laugh in the face of our own depression. That folder right there is one reason this type of community is so very important to so many of us. And “depression lies” is one of the simplest, most accurate descriptions of what it’s like to live with it. “Don’t leave” is also very simple and yet incredibly powerful.

You rock. You make me laugh. All. The. Time. Because of you metal chickens hold a special place in my heart. Be down if you need to be, just bounce right back up, because you make a big difference for all of us.

This post threw me…the whole time I’m reading it expecting the F word or a joke. I got none of that, and yet I walk away from reading it feeling thankful that it is out there. I don’t have depression, have never contemplated suicide, and I have no children. But I thank you for writing about this and sharing because…well if I ever did, I would know I wasn’t alone.

Today was a crying day for me. One of those days where it seems the entire world is on my shoulders and I would be crushed under the pressure. I cried, I stressed, I worried, I wanted to scream, to punish myself for being weak, or stupid or simply just not good enough to resolve all of my issues. After all of this, I gave in and fell to my knees and asked God to help me, so I didn’t have to do it alone….and here you ALL are. We are not alone in this. Thank you for giving us a voice. God bless.

I don’t have depression and I don’t know much about it (though I can certainly share long stories with you about clinical anxiety) so I don’t really understand when it’s ok to be funny and make jokes and where it becomes counterproductive. What I have to say isn’t a joke anyway, it’s actually a very serious matter and, frankly, time critical. I wanted to point out to you that as you may be approaching a serious bout of depression we may or may not be at the beginning of the zombie apocalypse. See any recent headlines on MSNBC, CNN, etc. about the incident in Florida. I know it’s an issue near and dear to your heart. I just wanted to say that if you do find yourself in the holds of a crippling bout of depression, we’ll try to hold down the fort while you’re down but we’re going to need you if indeed the apocalypse is upon us.

Thank you for speaking so frankly about depression. Too many people don’t understand that it’s so much more than just being “unhappy.” I am fortunate enough not to have depression myself, but I’ve seen what it can and has done to my best friend, and it can be terrifying. Just remember, Disney is a magical place – it even makes the rain seem like a plaything! The fact that you were still able to appreciate your daughter’s joy tells me that you’ll be ok.

PS – I see Hailey is a pin collector! I have a rather large and embarrassing collection myself. I’d love to send her one (or five…)

Goodness your peripheral vision issues make me wonder if there are migraine-related issues to all of this. I know about wanting to stay in bed and wanting just as fiercely to get up and run around with my children. These days the latter win out and that makes me happy–but it wasn’t always that way–and it takes continuous work and faith to keep trying. Thanks for flying the flag my friend. Sometimes it’s not the most beautiful one, but it’s damn colorful.

I’ve been a reader of your blog since I stumbled upon your Beyonce post and caused a scene in my office cube-land from laughing louder than the white noise they pipe in. I started following your blog because you make me laugh. I keep reading your blog because you are able to put words to what I feel way too often. I also suffer from depression and have toyed with suicide too many times (starting way back in elementary school I’m sorry to say). Thank you for showing that fun, awesome, normal people have this debilitating, hard-to-explain THING. This heaviness that causes every muscle to ache and my brain to become coated in storm clouds. But, I’m thankful to say, no matter how unbearable the weight is, the sun is ALWAYS lurking, waiting to come out! Beams of sunlight will soon tickle their way through the clouds to shine the truth that this bout of depression, like the last one and like the next one, will have an end. And when it ends, your blog is here to say “I’m struggling too” while also providing a source of hilarity for the sun beams to stream from. Thank you

Sometimes the depression make the laughing better. Some of my best,most out of control moments of laughter have happened in midst of a bout of depression. I think that the “I don’t care” chemical releases the control that doesn’t let us fully laugh. We usually laugh politely and within socially acceptable norms. But sometimes we just let go and all the emotion is out in the laughter. And its good. Its exhausting, but its good.
Its also rare. Because its hard to find the path to the laughter when you are caught in the abyss of depression.

thanks for sharing such an meaningful post. My husband has also battled bouts of severe depression over the last 11 years, and it really does help knowing that others share the battle, and that we can all get through it. Hope that this isn’t a big bout for you, but just a little glitch **hugs**

Your posts make me laugh so hard I cry. Then I share them with other people at work, who sit at their desks and laugh and cry. You are quite simply good karma rippling through the world. Thanks for being you and bringing hope to others by sharing your laughter and your hardship. You’re unique, but not alone.

Hailey is absolutely beautiful. Her smile lit me up and that is JUST what I needed today.
Thank you for being there for all of us. Depression does lie and you have reminded me that “every little things gonna be allll-right.

I love this post and I love you. I’m praying this will pass quickly for you, and that you will trust what you know and hear and have learned from others and not what your mind and depression tells you. She is indeed beautiful, just like you.

I know that this blog is one of the only things that helped me earlier this year when I was going through my small mental breakdown. I kept reading your blog and all the comments and thinking that if all these people can go through this kind of crap and still get up and make lives for themselves and their families, so can I. Your blog kept me holding on and kept me fighting for myself when doctors tried to say that I was imagining it or that I was just crazy. I knew that something was wrong and fought to get the help that I needed. I’m much better now, I have bad days, everyone does. But on my bad days I read this blog and the heartfelt posts about your struggle and comments from others are like a digital hug to keep going. And the funny ones are a reminder that I have to keep laughing. Laugh or cry, right? Love you and everyone else on here. {DIGITAL HUG}

This right here? Is why I admire you. Yes, you’re funny. But you’re also human and you share that. You let us in to the shadows behind the smile. And you do it to help and to heal. That’s the best part of your work…your desire to help others learn to stomp in the puddles and remember the sun will come back out some day! Thank you for that, Lady!

Thank you for being so honest about your depression. As someone who’s battled PPD as well anxiety, I’m always grateful when I see other kick ass women (yes, I said “other” because I am rather kick ass myself – thanks for noticing) coming out of the mental illness closet and leaving the doors wide open so that everyone can see that hey, it looks a lot like my closet except maybe there are more black clothes – and is that an emo wig? Providing a platform for people to say “me too” is essential. Everyone’s voice then adds strength to the choir. And before long, we’re fucking superheroes because we’re saving lives. 20 lives! And probably many more who didn’t email you because they were busy making soup or something (which is something alive people do, so that’s a good sign.)

You don’t have to be funny all the time. Just be you. Be authentic, because authentic you is pretty great.

Your daughter is one gorgeous and furiously happy girl. And she is blessed to have you for a Mom.

You gave me the courage to openly talk about my depression on my itty bitty blog. You have no idea that you did, but you did. So, thanks. And depression is a lying, hateful bastard. You have literally millions of people who love you and whose lives you’ve affected in a completely positive way. Remember that when it gets dark, because it’s true.

Thank you!! I have mental illness and am facing a battle for my teen son’s health. He has a condition that will require brain surgery, but until then he suffers chronic pain. I was wallowing in a little freak out self pity party, and I still am, but I’m picturing you in the corner with me, giggling a little over guac and chips. Thanks again – couldn’t have come at a better time this week.

That was the most eloquently put depression description I’ve ever heard. And so perfectly summed up. Thanks for the reminder.
Depression, anxiety, combo-packs and hybrids of the two devils have been a part of my life for over ten years. I’m (slowly) learning to come to terms and trying not to let the tail wag the dog.
Thanks, Jenny

I still haven’t been able to fully embrace the notion that depression lies, but I am too tired to argue against it. All I know is I hear those words on a loop in my head. “Don’t Leave” and it’s working. Good things have been happening lately. I am just waiting for the inside of my brain to catch up so I can enjoy them.

I love the pictures of your daughter’s smile on her face. I can close my eyes and hear her laughing. It reminds me of those happier times and it comforts just enough to get through, so thanks for sharing.

Thank you for your bravery in posting this. Having that courage to be candid and real is what helps so many others know they are not alone — and ultimately saves some of them. Thank you for that. I know how hard it is when people think you are so funny when you are just feeling in a dark place and very unfunny. It tires me to my bones during some of those times to try and fake it and slap a smile on my face and be the person that everyone expects me to be when nothing inside of me feels connected to that person.

I have been there. I hate that I just think I’ve finally gotten to be “normal” and then another bout of depression creeps in, its insidiousness making it almost invisible until I just start to feel a twinge of something wrong. I just am more cranky, more tired, more stressed, I wake up early early with my mind racing the minute I am conscious. I hate it. But you are so right, there is help and it DOES get better. When it gets better, I appreciate it SO much, my life. And we just keep riding the ride.

My words will be buried in the piles and piles of them left here for you, but sometimes saying it is the point. Your words and your courage inspire me in ways I’d forgotten, and for that I thank YOU. Giving a voice to Depression (how does it still have a stigma attached?!) is hard and beautiful and you make me want to add words to this battle so many of us share. Thank you for sharing the sides of yourself that linger along the darker edges…it’s recognizing that that gives people hope that they are just that…edges, and not the whole shebang.

Your daughter smiles with all her teeth, not just a peep of tooth. Wide, open lips for laughter to vault from, running loose. You’ve done well with her.

And, you’ve done well with yourself. Depression is like that lousy, lying, money-borrowing ex-boyfriend that shows up every now and then, still wanting to punish you for walking away from him. Keep walking away, Bloggess. Crawl if you must, but keep moving away.

YAAAYYY!!! Glorious post. I am counting the days until you get better (this post was still funny, btw), and I am counting the days until your daughter makes a full recovery from her bout with Cholera.
godspeed, antidepressants and anti-cholera meds.
godspeed.

Tears. Of joy, of understanding, of sorrow but not of shame. Thank you for always sharing the deep, dark stuff too. And then lining it with silver and reminding us that we can all help one another and, often, we don’t even know that just being who we are- flaws exposed for all to see- is sometimes the best way to be a superhero.

I always read your posts out loud, and so often I do with a giant lump in my throat- like today.
You always say the exact truth. Thank you.
And fuck that lying depression. It’s not going to beat you or me.

I took my three children to Disney at Christmas. Call it temporary insanity. I am a Type A+++++++ person, which means I wasn’t going to be happy unless my children RODE ALL THE RIDES, damnit. That was impossible, of course. On the second day, I realized my children were having fun just BEING at Disney, seeing the parades, seeing the characters and that the rides JUST DIDN’T MATTER to them. I stopped stressing and enjoyed our time, standing in lines waiting for the characters, watching the parades for the hundredth time and just enjoyed the time with the children, while we had it……

Thank you for talking so openly about your struggles with depression. I lost my cousin to suicide several years ago, and I wish I could have found a way to tell him that depression was being a fucking liar and that he was loved and good and like a big brother to me. But he kept his head down and didn’t let my entire side of the family know he was struggling because he was ashamed. Depression is nothing to be ashamed of, and you talking about it will help others–like those 20 emailers–to remember that depression fucking lies.

This is quite timely. I just went to my Dr. today so I can finally get some medical help with my very draining depression. My kids would like me to be HERE with them, not laying in bed, or hiding online. I want to be present, so..wish me luck.

Thank you for you and this post and this blog. I’m headed down into that dark hole again right now after being out for only a short while. The medication makes the times out longer but I still go back time and again. It’s scary. It’s unfair to my family and friends. My husband is scared of what goes on in my brain because he got a hold of my journal once by accident. My son doesn’t understand why Momma doesn’t want to or can’t play. one friend doesn’t understand that I can’t just think awesome thoughts. She doesn’t understand why I can’t think of my own self worth or see how I’m awesome because all I see is my mental disorders standing between me and other people. Other people don’t get me because of depression, anxiety, and bi polar disorder. But… I’ll help anyone at all. E-mail me: irishdncr83@gmail.com

First off I have to say you have a beautiful daughter and I am glad she was able to enjoy the rain! Secondly, I have to say how much you move me with your honest posts. I do not have depression but I know people who do. I know the pain they deal with regularly and to see someone come out of the darkness that is cast over this and shed some light on the topic is truly wonderful.

Thank you for being wonderful and for giving us tears, whether because you are moving us with your words or making us cry from laughter it’s all amazing.

We are rebuilding each other through this blog. I have had anxiety and eating disorders strip me of ten years of my life. After two years of treatment I finally feel like I am coming up for air. I love this community that Jenny has nurtured and love that so many people are able to drop their feelings of shame and secrecy through this blog. The most amazing thing to me is that at our weakest moments we find reserves of strength that we didn’t know we had to help one another. We are strong in each other. We are far from alone.

I really needed this post today. I did everything in my power to force myself to come into work today, but Depression is still hanging on tight and I feel completely empty. I want nothing more than to return to my bed and cry myself to sleep.

Depression does lie, but it is not always so easy to realize that depression is talking as it just sits in the back of your head and whispers lie after lie to you and it is hard to hear, so you focus a little on it to hear what the whispers are, then a little more and more, listening less to the real world and more to the whispers that are starting to make more sense the more you can hear them, then suddenly you’ve leaned too far to listen in even better and fall over into the black hole that is depression.

It is better when you can ignore the whispers and listen to loved ones, but not always possible. For those times that you are in your dark hole, just remember you are your own light and can see the handholds to climb out. Or get yourself some more friends to put the light back in your smile – saw this and thought of you: http://www.etsy.com/people/motil. She also has a Zombie Pinup page – http://www.zombiepinups.com/monique/. Good stuff. Made me smile. Hope it does for you as well.

I read your blog almost religiously but I never left a reply before because I have no experience with depression whatsoever, and thank the gods about that! But today I am really moved with what you wrote. Thanks to you I can maybe have a bit of an idea of what this is, and thanks to you maybe some day I can help someone by saying something you taught me, so thank you!

Your daughter is so damn adorable, which I’ve said like 50 million times before but it never stops being true. And you are adorable, too, even when you don’t feel like it. I’m so happy I found your blog, so happy you are here writing it, whether you feel like it or not. I failed at blogging because when depression hit me, I clammed up. I admire the strength and the courage it takes to talk when you don’t feel like it. You’ve affected so many lives, made so many people happy, and the world is a better place because you’re in it. ❤

First off, you have raised that girl to be wildly confident and beautifully happy! Second your blog has brought so many happy moments into my life. It has provoked so many thoughts and helped me understand my own mother and what she has pushed through to raise my self and my two fantastic little brothers. And it has inspired me to really work on my writing. I take so much inspiration from the writers I love and you’re one of them, right next to C.S. Lewis and Neil Gaiman. Thank you!

I love those pictures of Hailey, she’s having such a good time!
Thank you very much for being so honest about your depression. I think it’s important that we all talk to each other, inspire each other, remind each other that we’re not alone, that we’re not the only ones suffering… and that we can look depression in the face and come out the other side. Thank you for all you do and all that you are xx

I needed this today. My 13 yr old daughter has started to self harm/mutilate and on Monday required a police escort to the hospital for evaluation. I am scared shitless not only becuase of her but because I am dealing with my own dark episode. Both of these things separately are scary, together they are daunting and has made me doubt whether or not I can get to through to the other side. I needed this today. I needed this today. I needed this today…..I am printing it out and will carry it with me so I can convince myself that we will both be ok because today, I just don’t know.

I’m so tired of the pills and people who treat me like I’m going to fall apart at any moment. Worse – the people who look at me like I’m some sort of repulsive freak because of my depression and mania. They all love me when I’m funny and manic and falling of the cliff. Some love me even more when I hit rock bottom because it gives them something to fix. I saw how manic depression effected my Dad and how he never told anyone he was manic because of the shame. People thought he was a character with a lot of hobbies. He wasn’t. Those were the manic episodes when he couldn’t control himself and his mania manifested into thousands of dollars spent on new “hobbies”. Now I worry about my kids. Which will be doomed to carry this awful illness. I already see the signs in my eldest. The medicines are a love hate relationship. They keep me going and help the darkness recede but I am forever tethered to those little pills. I am no more in control of my life on them than off of them. But I’d rather live this way than not at all. But I can relate. Sometimes – when I’m at the top of my game is when the damned disease hits me the hardest. And then I feel worse because I worry that I’m ruining the moment for everyone else. What’s it like to be on the other side? To be someone whose body & mind don’t betray them? To not have this constant see-saw. I wonder if it is peaceful and sunny. I would envy that.

You are blessed with many gifts Jenny, not the least of which is the knowledge that you’ve saved the lives of those 20 people. And we are blessed that you share that knowledge, furthering the spread of goodwill, kinship, and love. Many of us will never know the impact we have had on others in our lives; how every small choice may change our course – or someone else’s – forever. What a gift to know that because of your honesty, bravery, and eloquence those 20 (and likely countless others) have chosen hope.

I’m so glad that your little girl was able to have so much fun despite there being no so great weather. I’ve been thinking about you guys and how you were doing! I know that you’ll be okay because you know that you’ll be okay. You’re an amazingly strong woman that I look up to more than you know. I hope to see more pictures soon and Jenny, always remember that life’s not about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain. I think Hailey’s got it down. I just love you and your family. Keep staying strong, girl. Much love and happy thoughts your way. *HUGS*

Amazing writing; even more amazing insight. Thank you for sharing so much of yourself. I’ve struggled with depression for 20 years or so, and still can’t admit it’s a mental illness. It’s just depression, so what? You have helped me so much to learn to look at my difficulties in a different way. Thank you for that. And thank you for this post. As others have said, there are probably many more than the 20 people who wrote to you who were saved by your blog.

I have been feeling a spiral myself lately, trying to fight it. I should be out tonight with friends for a special night, I just could not rally. I didn’t even really want to try. So I will jump in bed early and hope it is better tomorrow. Thank you for being you, for helping us all know we are not alone.

I have bipolar disorder and my husband has chronic depression. We don’t talk about it to anyone else, because they would think differently of us. It would hurt our business and personal relationships.

When people hear that someone famous and creative has a mental illness, they think it’s okay, and “normal” for a celebrity. When they hear that a non-celebrity has a mental illness, they think they’re crazy, unreliable, and should be locked up. Thanks for being one of the people who is working to rid us all of that stigma.

Thank you for writing about depression for those of us who do not have it. Until reading your descriptions about what it feels like I have to say that I had NO idea what it must be like. For those who are continually sunny, it’s good to know how the other half feels.

Also this explains why my blog is not funny and just barely interesting at all!!

Me too.
I never thought there were people out there like me but now I know there are so many. I choose to live without meds because I hated the way they made me feel so I just hope the bad days outnumber the good. I am learning when the depression kicks in and trying to combat it but it never really works so I sleep till it vanishes. It never really vanishes though. It’s like herpes. You can’t always see it but it’s waiting to come back.

I wish I could give you a big hug and make things better but I know from personal experience that it doesn’t work that way. You are an inspiration to me and make me feel like I can be proud of just being who I am…weirdness, sadness, illness and all.

I was one step away from a highway and massive, fast 18 wheelers..no one would notice another big bug smudge on a truck, no one would care…but who would care for my animals if I did take that step? So I turned around and walked back down the driveway…and the warmth of my cats and called the VA for help.
It is a daily fight, and your book has helped a great deal…it makes me laugh!!!
PTSD sucks, as does depression and anger over MST ( military sexual tauma).
I keep going because I will not give up to the Beast…I will fight every day, because life is about learning to dance in the rain!!
Thanks for your post today and all the wonderfully understanding replies..It IS nice to know I am not the only one!
Take care!

Depression does lie. It’s like anti-rose colored glasses. I’ve learned to really appreciate the little things all the time, but even more so when I’m dealing with a bout depression. The little things that make me smile even the smallest smiles, because it’s still something to push back against the gloom. I search out pretty things & funny things, listen to happy or silly music (old Saturday morning cartoon theme songs are amazing for this), and I try to act goofy, even if I’m all by myself or hanging out with the cat (how she puts up with her weird mother, I’ll never know). Part of how I dress myself has a lot to do with my depression, because I will totally wear a silly tee or green eye shadow, because it makes me feel happier and I am a firm believer that wearing nail polish in whatever shade you want is a form of color therapy that you can take with you anywhere you go.

So keep doing what you’re doing, because you’ve got the right of it. I always say that I may not good at getting myself better faster, but at least I can let other know that they are not alone and tell them what I know in hopes that it will help them as much, or even more so, as it helps me. It’s a little something that I can do that makes me feel better.

PS: Next time it rains here, I think I will run outside to jump in puddles & catch raindrops on my tongue. I haven’t done that in a long time, though I did run through sprinklers often when walking how from late night grocery shopping & I do like walking in the rain.

It’s very natural to have a really low low after such an incredible high like your book being published and being on the NY Times Bestseller list. I was wondering when that might hit you.

Like you said, depression lies. It’s amazing how many people have come out on your blog and said yes, me too, keep going, you can do it. And your video log helped me so much. I cried when you said you wanted me around (yes, I took that personally!)

Hailey looks incredibly furiously happy and for that, you can bask in the glow of knowing you are getting motherhood right.

Sorry about the hurricane. It really sucks when you plan a vacation and it gets rained and hurricaned out.

thank you. all i can say is thank you and me too. i too can be funny and crazy and silly- that is my natural and healthy personality. however, sometimes i’m just hiding, surviving, drifting. very few see my pain. thank you for making me feel like i am in good company.

Recognition. That’s what I (and so many others) have when we read this. I’ve been following this crazy tour you’re on and thinking, she’s got to be f-ing exhausted. At the end of every semester (grad school, PhD, teaching, single Mom, mid-law suit with douchy ex, blah, blah, bs) I collapse and get depressed — in spite of the great meds that work well the rest of the time. Crawl through because I know that I’ll eventually be fine again.

I’m also reading your book right now for comic relief and inspiration. You keep thanking “us” for it … but I’m thanking you for IT! I haven’t read anything non-academic in over a year now and this has been a giggling breath of (snorting) wheezing air 🙂

No one can be funny ALL the time, and, honestly, that would probably just piss us off anyway. People are entertained by funny. People CONNECT with real. Thank you for being real and open and vulnerable with us. Thank you for helping people see they aren’t alone. I hope you have more magic than darkness in the coming days.

“If we’re ever going to see the rainbow, we’ve got to stand a little rain” Yes I stole that line from a song, don’t bother suing me I don’t have anything

I just want to again, say thank you Jenny and friends all. Thank you for saying ‘me too’ and showing each and every one of those people that this is a problem that effects people everywhere, and it lies to all of us who had it move in with us. At least, as bad as it can be, we aren’t alone.

That is beautiful. I don’t have you audience but I am trying to do the same thing on my blog (well besides get the word out about my children’s stories. I have a section dedicated to my depression and anxiety issues that I have only recently begun to tackle. I’m better than I was, but not were I was a month ago, and have felt a little slip over the last 24 hours. I just haven’t found the right combo of meds yet. Its a frustrating game. But I blog openly for that reason I want to help people and I know I already have. I also want to destigimatize this. Depression lies, anxiety lies even more,a nd my fake it till you make it smile is just a big lie itself.

I’ve adored you from afar for ages (not like, in a stalker way, in like a normal blog-following way, lol), and I preordered your book because you’ve made me laugh to the point of spitting out liquids at my computer on multiple occasions. I came to your blog when I saw someone post on Facebook your article about Beyonce. And, I kept reading because a) i thought you were hilarious, b) I love your consistent use of curse words, and c) reading how you and Victor interact made me think to myself “I hope that one day I have a marriage like that. One where one day starts with an argument over towels and ends with one of us buying a giant metal chicken because…that is funny…that is a life worth living.” I had no idea at that time that you struggled with depression. Since then, I’ve been amazed countless times, not as I expected, at your humor. But, I’ve been amazed at the good you’ve done for others from this platform. I’ve been amazed at your bravery for sharing something so deep. I’ve been amazed at the red dress project and the silver ribbon to make others feel good about themselves. And, most importantly, I’ve been amazed at the education I’ve received from you about depression and its effect on others. My father committed suicide when I was 17, and I’ve often wondered what he thought, how he felt. I wish that he could have read your blog. Thank you so much for your post today. It moved me to tears and compelled me to comment for the first time. I feel like I’m getting some insight into something I thought was lost forever. You are wonderful.

I’m so glad I found you and your Blog. You’ve helped me see that I’m not alone and that other people think/feel like me. I love that you’re so open about yourself and your depression. I’m open about mine in a passive/aggresive way. I constantly “joke” about my “shiny object syndrome(SOS), or all the “voices” in my head etc in the hopes that someone will come to me for help. I climb on the soapbox once in awhile too so I can help others. I’ve been sharing your page to try to help educate others, people who don’t understand and people who are in our same situation alike. Thank you for being YOU and keep up the great work!

My daughter helps me through my depression. Sitting on the bathroom floor, tears streaming down my face, thoughts of nothing but ending the pain and pills and razors…. it’s overwhelming. Then I remember her face. Her hugs, her words of love. She’s my rock. She’s my strength. She’s my reason to get up every day, whether depression has pulled me down or not. I might go back to bed after she’s off to school, but without her, I would stay in that bed. Without her, I may have put those pills and razor to use by now.
Sometimes it seems I’m faking it for her sake. And I probably am, but I think that’s what is supposed to happen. Sometimes faking it means making it. My daughter’s joy is my cure.
Thank you my beautiful Girl. You make the sun shine.
And to you, Dear Ms. Bloggess – you will be ok. You ARE ok. And that’s enough. x

Thank you Jenny. You are such a source of light, even for those of us who aren’t trapped in the darkness. My spouse just recently admitted that as a teen, suicide was a very real possibility. When the darkness came back last year he tried meds, but the real change didn’t happen until he was able to discover the cause (gender identity disorder). Thank you for shining a light into the darkness for those of us who are searching for those lost in it.
My Defining Moments post is about how my husband’s transition to female and how she found a way out of her darkness.
Again, thank you. You remind me to be furiously happy too.

I finished reading your post and hid in the bathroom to cry. I’m another of those “me too”, depressed, anxious and terribly shy. When I started reading you, I was well past my suicidal phase, but you’ve helped me in other ways…
I’ve always been afraid of being a mother. How could I take care of another human being when I can barely get my arse out of bed? Will I be a horrible mother? Will my children hate me? Seeing the smile on your child’s face gives me a hint of hope. If you have overcome your mental illness to raise such a beautiful, healthy, brilliant and happy child, there’s a chance I can do it too.
Depression is a liar. I can be a good mother.
Thank you, Jenny. ❤

While I only just started reading your blog recently, I am so moved by what you have to say – from the funny to the serious. Thank you for being brave enough to put yourself out there, you are saving lives because the things you talk about truly resonate with people.

You should know that your blogging inspired me to publicly blog about my depression and it has made a tremendous difference in my life. And I second the notion that some of the funniest (and smartest) people I have ever known suffered from depression. I think it is due to a couple of things…first, madness often accompanies genius. It’s as if there is some Icarus rule that keeps mankind from being too smart so that they are often “gifted” with some form of mental challenge. The second thing is that the depressed, IMHO, are brutally honest with themselves, never cutting themselves any slack. While that makes it harder to break free from those horrible downward spirals, it also allow us to access those pithy, hysterical nuggets of wisdom that can only be found in deep introspection. How’s that for looking at the glass as half-full? It will only last about, oh, another five minutes, but I will take what little, periodic optimism I can scrounge up. Thanks again for inspiring me and making me laugh–that last is worth more than gold to me.

Those of us who don’t have depression will never know how you get the strength to have depression instead of letting it have you, but we are eternally grateful that you are stronger than the hand life dealt you.

Thank you so much for posting this. You honestly and frankness about it all makes it so much easier to talk about. i don’t talk about it much, I just act like the stupid cliche clown so that no-body asks if I’m ok. So Thank you for being so awesome.

Posts like this are pure art. Jenny, you are the muse and oracle that so many of us thought we would never find. Thanks for verbalizing the wonky emotion factories that go on in so many of our heads. Please continue to be a pure and honest medium.

I’m so glad you openly blog about your struggles. They have made me feel like I’m not alone on more than one occasion. You actually inspired me somewhat to blog openly about my struggles with depression, OCD, PTSD, and anxiety. You’ve made me realize that I should not be ashamed of my mental illness. It’s not something that defines me. Yes, it’s something I will struggle with every effing day for the rest of my life, but I’m so much more than my mental illness. “Depression lies” is 100% true of depression, but so hard to remember when you are living it. Thank you for reminding me of it. I’m going to write that on a note card and put it on my fridge.

We love you for being you. With all the travel, book signings, meetings and now this fun trip, you can only be “up” for so long. We will travel this journey with you and hopefully you’ll know we’re here. may that knowledge help the depression lose some of its power, so that it doesn’t last as long or take you as far down. In the meantime, we’re here. Funny or not.

Very sneaky of you to post your own childhood photos and label them your daughter just so we would all get on here and tell you how adorable she (you) is (are). Seriously, those eyes, those cheekbones, that smile, the tilt of the head? ‘Fess up.

Oh, and, it was confronting that fact that death would mean never seeing my wife again that kept me off the edge long enough to get help. I hope being with your beautiful daughter and long-suffering 😉 husband will help you as well.

Thank you so much for your posts. I have not personally been struck by depression, but my dad, my uncle, my cousin, my brother have. You are helping those who suffer from it know they are not alone, and those who don’t to help understand those who do. I’m going out to get your book tomorrow (I have no chance of getting it at my library – there are something like 40 people on the wait list for it now). 🙂

Don’t you hate it when you see the depression coming? Ack! Sometimes it’s almost worse. Way to push through and be there for your daughter and husband. Sometimes that’s the hardest part. I’m bummed you aren’t coming near my city b/c I would love to meet you and your awesomeness!

Here’s the thing. Depression can decide to drop in at the most inconvenient times. You acknowledge it, knowing it won’t leave until it’s good and ready, but the thing that is so freaking fantastic is that you can also see the exquisite joy on your daughter’s face, and you will make sure that joy is what rises to the top.

I have only recently discovered your blog but I have read your book. I’ve been tempted to comment but this post has pushed me over. 🙂 Struggling with depression and social anxieties is horrible to live with. It is a struggle but I move forward for my kids too and some days that is the only reason. I’m glad there is someone out there that understands and love this blog for this reason. If you can do it, I can do it . Oh, and I grew up with JRA on top of all this too. Arthritis is horrible at any age.

Yeah, depression-lately feeling low energy, shame filled, not wanting to do anything, and basically dark. Staying up till the wee hours and sleeping the day away. Out of control of my life. I know I can get out of it, but it’s hard sometimes. If I get a chai latte that helps elevate my mood. Or take my neighbors dog for a walk is great. I don’t feel like doing much of anything, and all of the things I’m suppose to do stare me back in the face. I haven’t gone grocery shopping in like 6 mos., too overwhelming for it’s Costco, Trader Joes, and Target I have to go to. I’m suppose to get a new phone but I don’t want to do all the research it takes to get one. Oh, well, this state of mind will pass-I am in counseling personally, about to do couples counseling, and do family conseling, for my boyfriend’s 14 year old attempted suicide a month ago. And he seems always so happy go lucky. Take care y’all!

Thank you sweet lady. How wonderful it would be if you could spin in a teacup until you couldn’t stand,then stagger out and just puke the poison right out of you. Look down on it and say “Take That depression, and hey, when did I have corn?”

I’m crying… because my brain has been playing tricks on my for weeks. little things that 3 weeks ago were easy are a giant chore for me right now. There have even been a couple of times that I got int he car to go somewhere and by the time I was at the end of my street, I couldn’t remember where I was going. I’ve been hiding it… because I MUST have some kind of horrible, never-before-heard of brain tumor and I’m going to die.

But really, these are my signs. And you just threw another out there…. a big flashing neon one that just says “LIES”

I’m going to try to keep THAT sign in my sights until I see the other side.

1. You are amazing and wonderful.
2. I’ve learned I can’t even read the comments before i comment. I get too distracted. You have amazing and wonderful commentors.
3. Hailey is adorbs! i love other people’s kids…. cause they’re cute and funny and I don’t have to pay for college.

I am so appreciative of you. Instead of crawling inside the black hole, you share your troubles with us. It really is amazing to see how many people relate and feel the exact same way all the time. But in today’s society, the judging and comparing make it difficult to express our true emotions. Thank you Jenny.

Your child has the most beautiful smile in the world. I mean it’s like a freaking SUPERPOWER!
Still fighting the black cloud. Every awful I think…will this be the weekend when I give in? Then I wake up Monday morning and try for another week. One day at a time I guess.

This month, I witnessed a stranger’s suicide attempt, got dumped, had to move, was late to work twice, and was in a car accident. That covers the first week–I won’t bore you with the details of the rest of the month, but suffice it to say my life has been like some horrible farce for the last several weeks. As someone who has been in that dark pit for a while, let me tell you–your blog is one of the beacons out of it.

Never ever underestimate the power of your words and the belief that you are who you are for a reason. I’m sure you’ve saved many more lives than you’ll ever realize. Keep being the joy that you are, just as you are!

I love your post. I am a longtime reader, but a once in a blue moon commentor. I struggle myself with depression, and it is so hard to explain to friends and family, why I can be absolutely fine some days, but others I physically cannot make myself do anything.

Your post brought tears to my eyes, because I feel like that so many days. I will push through it because I love my kids more than anything in the world, so I push it deep down inside of me and ignore it as best as I can, because of them. You are inspirational Jenny. You really are.

Interesting, this is the first time I’ve ever read anything by you. A friend told me about the website last night and sent me the link. I’ve since been reading all through it, but the humor is, I think, that much funnier knowing that you are a real person with real issues. I can’t wait to read the book!

1) Amazing pics of your daughter! She radiates joy!
2) If you haven’t read the blog ‘Diary of a Mad Woman’ (not mine, I’m not self-promoting right now) then you SHOULD! She’s brilliant and she writes about the aftermath for her and her children after they found her husband had committed suicide. A terrible story but she also is someone who will save lives.
3) Sending prayers and warm wishes that you can quickly return to your usual wise-ass self who we all adore.
❤

My son makes me feel the same way, he is wonderful about reminding me how to be in the moment and find joy in everything.
On another note, I love your serious, not funny posts too 🙂 You inspire all of us!

I am feeling very teary and I’m usually like that after reading your posts because I was laughing so hard. You are such a beacon of light and so much of that is because you know the darkness. I think you are extraordinary and your daughter is so very lucky to have you for her mother.

Thank YOU, once again…and I highly recommend a large, colorful beyonce tattoo on your calf–it’s seriously hard not to at least giggle when you look at it, no matter how crappy everything else seems (and yes, I have a large, colorful beyonce tattoo on my calf–because hey, it’s gonna be SOOOO much funnier when I’m 80 and it’s all wrinkley…)

Thank you, Jenny. I’ve been having a really bad anxiety morning (you know, the ones where you can feel something bad on the horizon or you’re anxious and nervous and you have no idea why?) and feeling stuck in my head and alone.

This post reminded me that I’m not alone. That there are people here, in our little internet community, that can honestly say “I know exactly what you mean. THAT FEELING SUCKS”. That helps, more then I can say.

The friend of a friend took her own life yesterday. My friend is so angry at her friend for not being able to talk to someone, and for leaving her two daughters without a mother. Because of your blog, I can understand how dark one can feel and the feeling that there must be something better somewhere else. Hopefully my friend will get over her anger because we never know the turmoil in someone’s head.

I am sitting here crying right now because while I do visit your blog for some comic relief, this is the message I needed today as I am slipping closer to the edge of my own black hole. I have everything to be happy for, to live for, but we know the darkness doesn’t differentiate. I needed to be reminded that Depressions LIES today. Thank You… be well.

Thank YOU for being here and joining us together! While I do not suffer from depression, I suffer from anxiety. I know what it is like to have a panic attack where you feel that you will die at any moment, where you have an out-of-body experience watching yourself crumble into a sobbing-screaming pile of a human and not being able to do anything about it. Mental illness is a bitch but people like you and this community makes the going better. Thank you and you keep on fighting!

Today, my therapist taught me a tactic. When my thoughts are spinning and I’m spiraling down, pretend a Stop sign flies up at my face. I’m to take a deep breath, then name off 10 things I’m grateful for. If I can’t do it, I pretend that I live in Haiti or some other less fortunate place. I can at least be thankful for clean water and showers. It’s easy to sink into the pit. Your honesty helps us all fight it who need to fight it.

And this is why I was so sad to find out that when you will be in Chicago…you will indeed by so close, yet so far away. I was one of the few lucky enough to get tickets to the Lit Fest event…only to find out I can’t go due to family obligations. There were even evil little thoughts of: Well it is a shower for me…They can’t really start without me – can they? I can go, be a total fan girl, then go on to the family gathering and then go home and curl into a ball for the next week. Instead I am going to give the gift that keeps on giving – no, not the clap, I am paying forward my tickets to the ladies who introduced me to your blog. I have been a mental health crusader for 15 years now. I still have some very dark days. With those years of not giving in have come wisdom- yes this is a soul sucking moment, dear Lord do I feel alone, but if I can get out the other side: someone can benefit from this.
You help me do that. I love wearing my Depression Lies T: I get a few weird looks, but I get even more high fives, and enough “where’d you get that?” to warrant me wanting a Bloggess.com business card template. I’d say we are all part of the League of Injustice…once an official cape pattern is chosen we can star being caped crusaders…Though you already got a cape from a fan. hmm. I’m not sure of my chances of being the random recipient of a cape. Perhaps that may be another evolution of the Red Dress Project. I can see it now…a rag tag mess of folks, in their cape-y glory, spreading the word: Mental Illness is nothing to be ashamed of. Rather than coming out of closets…well for me it’d be getting out of bed. Perhaps they should be capes made out of old quilts. I digress. I watched my mom, my grandmother, a few aunts, my father, countless friends all try to cope in silence. I have been diagnosed since 1985 with depression. I was 10. I have walked through metaphorical fire for more than 25 years. You were the first person that I was introduced to that was as open about their struggles as I try to be about mine. I applaud you. I applaud your fans, without whom I’d be in the dark. I wish I could high five you in Chicago this trip, but alas it would seem I need to wait for my cape. Safe Travels & here’s hoping you like Chicago.

Thank you for sharing. As someone who also suffers from depression, it helps to read other’s frank but positive accounts of coping with it. I think the more we talk about it, the less the stigma will persist.

Jenny, you don’t have to be funny all the time because when you are funny I wet my pants and I don’t think my furniture can take much more of that. Just before I read your blog I realized that I had taken a personal day from work today because I needed the time alone. I needed the time alone so get centered and turn off the cacophony in my head; or at least turn down the volume. You see, in my head there are thoughts that say I am fat, ugly, old, stupid, worthless. I know better. I have a good life full of people who love me dearly, respect me, even admire me. Depression lies. It lies lahk a dawg as we say in the South. But depression also never quite shuts up, does it?

BTW-your daughter is so beautiful, and her joy is wonderful. I know you know that, but I wanted to say it anyway.

I’ve never posted on your blog before, but I read this one every time there is a new post. I wanted to share that I was depressed and suicidal on many occasions when I was younger. Even had myself committed once for a 72 hour hold to try to hang in there until the worst had passed. Years later, I was doing better and working graveyard shift in an ER. A woman was brought in and was crying so hard that they had to put her in a wheelchair to get her into the ER. No big stressor, just profoundly depressed. My job was to get her name, address, insurance info, etc before she went back to be evaluated. After I had gotten everything I told her the doctors would be out to take her back shortly. Her adult daughter had wandered off to make a phone call (no reception in our waiting room). She had calmed a bit, and when I looked at her, I saw myself at my worst all over again. Making the phone call to stay alive for just a few more days. She looked so lost and lonely. I told her, “I know exactly how you feel.” She looked skeptical. I said, “I don’t know the particulars, but there comes a point when it doesn’t matter what it was that set it off. The bottom of a hole is the bottom of a hole…. doesn’t matter how you got there.” She looked a little hopeful. She asked, “How did you get out?” I said, “Hell, I don’t know! Time. Patience. Talking, thinking, anti-depressants. Changing my mind about myself. Limiting my stress. Love. Who knows?” I took her hand across the counter and I said, “You just have to wait it out. It doesn’t stay the same forever. I promise you that.” She broke down again and tears were streaming down her face. I said, “I swear to God, if you wait it out it will get better. I did. But if I had ended it all then, things never would have had the chance to change. I’m thankful I hung on. You will be, too.” She squeezed my hand so tight. The charge nurse came out to get her. I never found out what happened to her because we can’t access patient records once they go to Psych. I hope that she hung in there. I hope that we all do.

I have a mild episodes infrequently but insomnia is ever-present. Some nights ago I felt myself sinking and your phrase “depression lies” popped into my head. By repeating that, I was able to battle through the “sadness” (ha) and felt like I could fly the next morning. With just that one little phrase, you have armed me for the fight!

When my parents took me to Disney World, we waited in line for what seemed like decades for the Dumbo ride. And then, when my turn finally came, my Dumbo wouldn’t fly. I yanked on the joystick to no avail. All the other kids’ Dumbos were soaring in the sky, and mine was barely hovering two feet above the pavement. Well, 5-year-old Me threw a tantrum so epic that it earned me another go-round in a fully functional elephant. But I could have handled it more gracefully. What I’m saying is that when my Dumbo gave me lemons, I didn’t make lemonade by contracting a disease by drinking rainwater dripping off the monorail. At a young age, Hailey’s on to something big: happiness, and probably cholera.

I have similar issues and have learned. It rained so hard at Disney that even though we had ponchos (been before) my son’s pants and mine were falling down (thank goodness for old school yellow and blue ponchos). We laughed all the way to the buses in the pouring rain! Things are NEVER perfect and that is what makes great stories. Isn’t that is what life about? Great stories that we treasure forever, albiet good or bad. Our lives are just the stories we make. I don’t always like my stories while we make them but they are always awesome after!

I feel on top of my own depression. I haven’t had an episode in a couple years. Meds are finally lined up properly.
To all of you that said, “me too” to this post—Hang in there. Sometimes, it’s one minute at a time. One day at a time is just too large a time frame.
Jenny, you’ve had a long couple months. You’ve done so well. Thanks for being open and sharing ALL of it.

Wow – I sure needed this post today. I am so…impressed that you can see the beauty and joy around you even when you’re pushing back darkness. I’m still learning how to do that. Usually, the darkness pounces on me and I suffocate, trying hard to focus on just breathing and simply can’t see anything other than darkness.

I often wonder, is it best to try and fight it off or just to ride it out?

It’s always moving to learn that your actions or your words meant something so much more than just what you thought it would mean to a person. I’m proud of you, Jenny, for posting and helping those 20 people see they’re not alone…and I’m proud of those 20 people for helping you see how much your words, your actions and your strength means to them. And to us. You keep thanking us, but, Jenny…thank you. Thank you for being so incredibly you. You mean a lot to all of us.

I was having a bad week last week. I’m having a better week this week. “Depression Lies” is quite possibly the single greatest combination of words I’ve ever read on the internet, and last week would have been harder had I not ever read it.

This day is how you know you are winning, or at least not losing. Most people without depression don’t even notice the joy around them, or right in front of them for that matter. They gripe at the slightest downturn, like a rainstorm, too blinded by their own self imposed tunnel vision to notice the rainbows. The fact that you noticed the rainbow (Haley), through the fog of depression, tells volumes about your state of mind when down. When fighting the dark, you still look up to see the stars when most clear headed people don’t even know there are stars to see.

Best memories are unplanned. That looks like an awesome one, in spite of that depression-fucker showing up for the party.

Gosh, I just adore you & your family. I’m so glad that you’re storm has helped others see some light on the other side of their own storms, even if it’s temporary or comes in bursts. You’re amazeballs!

My husband is starting to climb out of a huge pit of depression the likes of which we had not seen in a long time. We’re starting to see joy again and after the dark times he’s had, I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.

Depression lies. That has become a mantra in our house. Your blog doesn’t just help the people who are depressed, Jenny. It helps the people who love them too.

Thank you so much for this post! I’ve been fighting depression and anxiety (one begets the other, inevitably) for over half my life and see so much of myself in your words. A smart person told me “don’t believe everything you think”; a different way of saying “depression lies.” Until I REALLY believed that, I had no hope for life. With the help of great counseling and magical meds, I can most days go to bed without praying that I will never wake up again. I can keep the beast at bay and focus on the little happy miracles that life bestows. Like your blog. Like Hailey’s awesome smiles. Like your wonderful community here.

Your blog has brought me so much happiness, from Nancy, to Beyonce, from Wil Wheaton to the Christmas one of your followers gave my family something to celebrate, but the most meaningful posts are the ones that I identify with. This is one of them. It makes me not feel broken anymore, it makes me feel normal. Like a human being, vulnerable, and joyful, and loving. Thank you, for everything you’ve accidentally given me. Seriously, quit dropping knowledge bombs or I may have to start paying you.

You will never know all the lives you have touched. If 20 have written you… Think of all of those who haven’t… Your blog always makes me smile (sometimes through the tears). And sharing it with a friend has helped her find her smile in the dark places.. and know too that depression is a dirty liar! Keep just being who you are… For you are truely beautiful and I believe living your purpose!

Everyone wonders why I don’t mind my 1 hour – 2 hour commute. I use it to cry. It’s the only privacy I have. I don’t care that random strangers see me crying on the stalled interstate as we slowly crawl by each other in the morning. So me and the music and the tears. Yes, depression lies. Yes, there are reasons for the tears, but depression makes it so much more tragically awful and harder to deal with. Meds, tears, traffic, and knowing that I’m not the only one. So we get through each day. Finding friends and reasons for the next day even if they’re on-line. Thanks Jenny.

Jenny, Once again thank you for being so real and open and honest. You touch my heart! I don’t have depression, at least as far as I know, but I am pretty certain it gallops through my family. You are so uplifting, thank you for the reminder that there are no rainbows without the rain, thank you for being that bit of sunshine that causes the rainbow! You rock!

I will admit it. I believe I am in that file of yours. And as I feel a sever ass kicking coming my way, I always think of you and what you said. DEPRESSION LIES. When I feel the darkness creeping over me (as it is right now) this is a mantra I repeat to myself over and over and over.

I was just diagnosed with PCOS, one of the symptoms of which is depression. It came at me slowly, so slowly that I didn’t realize what was happening, but then for the past several months while I was waiting on a diagnosis, I couldn’t seem to really enjoy much of anything. I’d get horribly, irrationally angry and then burst into tears for absolutely no goddamn reason. The only 2 things kept me sane: my wonderfully, impossibly patient husband and the knowledge that I’m not alone. Thank you so much for all of your posts. Now that I’m on medication to balance out my hormones, I feel like a fog’s been lifted and I can finally say THANK YOU.

The biggest lie that depression tells me lately is that if I just lay down and take a nap, I’ll feel better. I try try try to remember that it’s my actions that lead me out of depression: that I don’t feel better and start doing things; I have to do things and eventually I feel better.

I’ll speak to you as the daughter of a father who suffered severe depression the entire time I was growing up. When I was young, I remember thinking some of the things he did were odd (like staying in a dark bedroom for days at a time) and I didn’t learn the full extent of it until I was in my twenties. I’m not sure why they never told me what was going on but I’m sure they were trying to protect me.

From what he Dad has told me, many, many years after the fact, it was a very dark place indeed. I’m sure he would have appreciated a website like yours where people are honest and open about their depression. His was a time when NO one talked about it, because if you did, it felt like admitting some sort of “weakness.” To me, sounds it like an extraordinarily lonely place to be. I can only imagine someone reading your words or comments and thinking “I can get through this.” While I know those words can’t erase the darkness, they sure can give you hope. And maybe that’s just enough light to get you through to the other side.

Thanks for your honesty and heartfelt posts – they help me understand what it feels like to suffer from depression. While I can always have empathy, I can’t know what it truly feels like. It takes guts (and a real set) to put it out there like you do – the good and the bad, and the hilarious. So thank you.

Depression always lies, but even when we know that it can still take someone else saying it to remind us that what we’re feeling/thinking isn’t true. I’m so grateful to people like you who’ll stand up and talk about what it’s like, and to the people who stand by their loved ones with mental illness to help them get through those dark episodes. Without all of you, there’d be many more of us gone.

I’ve been in treatment for depression (and anxiety, and PTSD, and OCD, and…) for about 40 years. About 15 years ago I entered a day treatment hospital for several weeks and found a really good doc who was finally able to find the right combination of meds to keep me from sliding all the way into the black pit of despair. I still have bad days, but I no longer have non-functional days. I know that not everyone is able to achieve this, but I hope for you that you might. However, what you say is so true–depression DOES lie. And you are an incredibly inspirational women, in addition to being a great writer and funny as hell when you want to be. Stay strong.

Secondly, I would like to reach out to Amber #128 who has bipolar, and tell her she’s not alone. I too suffer from bipolar — for 40 years. I have severe mania and depression episodes, mixed episodes, and anxiety disorder. I never wanted to admit it to anyone, not even some family members. There’s such a stigma with bipolar, because it is classified as a mental illness. I have been hospitalized for the severity and almost lost my life, and my marriage over the illness. But, I persevered when something tragic happened during vacation while out of the country, and I vowed when I returned back to the states, I would begin cognitive behavioral therapy for 1 year (no interruptions) + see my psychiatrist + take my medicine, and really just a whole host of things like exercise. I mean, *really* exercise. Eat veggies, take particular vitamins and socialize outside the home. I took up golf and joined a ladies bunco group. Forgive me for writing a short story here, but heck, I’m a writer! Yikes!!

My energy levels soar like a neutron collider: accelerate wildly into compulsive thoughts that inspire me to step out and sign up for the National Orchid Society and the Dracula Society of Romania while the shower water is still running. Powerful manic episodes stimulate intense creativity. I’ll write on a screenplay for a few hours, a few days, and then abruptly start a children’s novel. By day’s end, I have moved to painting what could very well be described as “vomit on canvas,” or join the Naval Reserves in a grandiose unrealistic moment, and other shameful unmentionables. Chasing a wad of dog hair with the sweeper could very well be the apex of my afternoon. All the while bouncing from one thought to another like Wild E. Coyote with a flame to his butt. Sometimes mania inflates my self-esteem to a dangerously high-risk level.

When I’m down, I refer to myself as “bottom dweller.” When I’m bottom dwelling, I hide from friends and family including my own husband. No social event is attractive enough. These total withdrawals from society can occur at any time including summer vacations and Christmas dinners. Self-doubt and agitation are the plague of bipolar.

Unpredictable bouts of crying can hit during an Alzheimer’s commercial, or while listening to Barry Manilow’s song Mandy. Fear can settle in, and the phone goes unanswered and the house becomes a permanent refuge. It’s an effort to listen or form logical sentences. Daily routines are neglected, from eating, sleeping, or showering. The slightest whisper can ramp up into a disturbing noise that jangles nerves to the point of nausea.

We can get through this. No one should suffer alone. Love you Jenny. Now, let’s all go to Disney World (back in Jenny’s case) and create magic!

Thank you. I struggle with depression and have for more than 20 years. My husband does to. I live in fear that my daughter (also 7) will too… I see things in her face, expression, and eyes sometimes that seems hauntingly familiar. “Depression lies” has become my mantra thanks to you. I struggle through therapy, figuring out my symptoms and early warning signs. Today was a tough day. I yelled at both my kids when I didn’t need to. But the sadness and frustration in me was just too much to bear. Tomorrow will be a better day. You being here also makes today a bit better too. Thank you.

Twenty lives saved? But that’s only the start of the people you saved. That’s such a beautiful thing.
I tend to say you have to find your happiness. It’s out there for everyone. Sometimes you need help finding it, and thats why it’s so great to have people like you in the world.

I’m sitting here watching my husband play with my puppy and reading your blog and realizing you are, as usual, so right. Carpe Diem, and all of that. I have depression and fibromyalgia and discovered a long time ago that if I wait until I feel good to do stuff then I would never leave my house. I love you Jenny. Thanks for being real. I read your book last week and my sixteen year old daughter is reading your book right now and loving it. Keep up the faith.
Michelle

Ever since I read the words “depression lies” on your blog, it’s gone into my catalog of mantras for my negative self. I think you have a powerful way of helping people, even when you aren’t at your best.

Every day is a struggle for me to get out of bed and make it through another day. Some days I lose the struggle and spend the day sleeping.
I hate to sound like this, but people who don’t live with depression don’t get it. I have people tell me all the time “just get over it” and “think of all the good in your life”…I know I am more blessed then some. I try to look at the glass half full. But I can’t seem to ever fully do that. Good days for me are okay days for “normal” people. I don’t have GOOD days.
Wtf is even the point of this comment. Idk other then to say thank you for bringing a smile to my face sometimes. I swear if we lived closer we could be friends. That just made me sound kind of like a creepy icky person, but for shiz, as socially retarded as I am, I still think that.
And like my Twitter comment to you said – you are amazing for teaching your child to dance in the rain.

Thank you for stating so elegantly and simply what I have never been able to explain. My gratitude for your book, your humour, your humanity is endless. You have given me courage to fight back, because depression lies. I read somewhere that “the world is full of broken people”. At this moment, I don’t feel quite so guilty about being one of the broken ones. It could happen to anybody and it doesn’t have to ruin my life. For the first time in years, I feel like maybe I have a chance. THANK YOU.

I’m a therapist, so I’m legally obligated to point out that therapy blah blah blah anti-depressants more blah etc etc etc. BUT. you are SO FUCKING WONDERFUL. you bring tears to my eyes. you are a role model, in your humor, and your depression, and your ability to cope with the depression, and acknowledge when you’re not able to fight it off. but mostly in your honesty. thank you for being you. and for helping so many other people, who take courage from your courage.

One of my favorite memories was made the day my Dad took me to a baseball game, and mid-game it got rained out. I sat there, surrounded by soggy peanut shells, and had the biggest grin on my face. My Dad let us stay there, in the rain, hoping the game would be able to start up again. I was a child. We have to find a way to hold onto the talent we have as kids to embrace the things that could spoil our day, week, months, and take our time back from the rain and use it to make ourselves happy. How do we lose this skill? Someone, figure that out.

Bless you, darling. And thank you for sharing another part of your beautiful self. My father was horribly depressed and threatened suicide all through my childhood and up until the day he finally passed (from natural causes). I was 37. That’s a long time wondering if and when it was going to get me, too. Well, it has. I haven’t escaped its grip. For the past month I have had my own battle and the physical pain that comes with it. Just yesterday I thought to myself “if it’s going to be like this I seriously don’t want to go on.” But I’m better today. Happy even. The highs and lows don’t make any sense to me. But I have to trust all will be okay. And that I am worth it.

Thank you for being a humorous, and most important, a bright and honest light in an often dismal world.

Bravo. Well said and I am glad you shared this. You are right, you are brave and you are just perfect the way you are. Thanks for sharing the ups and the downs with whoever is lucky enough to come across your blog.
carry on.

I have no words for this post. It was powerful and meaningful and amazing. Thank you, thank you for sharing your struggles, your outlook on a gloomy day, and the insight that depression does lie. It lies continuously. But more importantly thank for sharing the amazing fact that we can help each other. That we aren’t alone. Thank you.

I so needed this post today. I suffered from a severe clinical depression almost four years ago, and have battled daily anxiety since. I’ve recently found myself taking Xanax more frequently than usual (though still within my prescribed daily dose), and it wasn’t until I read this post that I realized it’s not just anxiety: I’m hitting that depression well again. I haven’t fallen over the edge, but I’m definitely looking down and noticing the darkness. I know I can pull myself out and see the sunlight (ironically, I’ve been doing this lately by planning my family’s own WDW trip, to take place 6 months from now), but this post has made me acknowledge that I am, indeed, facing depression. That alone is oddly helpful, because now I know what I’m fighting, and I know how to fight back.

Depression again. That lying bastard.

I’m totally going to join my kids and dance in the rain next time. I may not feel like it at that moment, but I will not let this lying McLiarson win. Thank you so much for your candor, and for helping me see what’s going on around me — and that although it is around me, it’s not ME. I will do this!! We can all do this. Thank you, thank you.

I wish I was brave. But if I was, I might not be here either. I just want to thank you for your words. They are so true and so hard to remember. Depression lies, but it makes it look like you’re telling yourself the true. It’s slippery and hard to grab a hold of. But we keep surviving somehow, don’t we?

Thanks for your bravery and your honesty and for making us laugh. Depression does lie and it comes up behind you and apps you on the shoulder unexpectedly and at the damnedest times. It’s nice to know we’re all in it together.

It’s the daily stare down of the demons that constantly undermine self esteem, support systems and coping mechanisms. It’s knowing that others feel joy because of the rain, and constantly battling to get back to that sense of balance. And it’s simply knowing that there is one brave enough to voice the pain, and in turn open communication for the rest of us to be reminded that we are not alone. Because sometimes family is not enough, but the hug from the stranger on the corner provided enough acceptance to get us through to the next stage. Thank you for being the hug, I so desperately needed.

You are my hero. You make me laugh, you make me cry… I always think that if people knew half of what goes on in my head I would be locked up forever. I’m not as brave as you, I can’t share that part of myself with anyone. I just wake up each day and muddle through as best I can. I check in here often, hoping to find a little pick me up. Keep doing what you do because you are awesome.

it does get better. you don’t have to keep being a patient. sometimes you have to be your own parent, the one you need (ed) to the freaked out little kid inside. sometimes you have to let yourself off your hook first so you can get the other stuff off. others can only give you tools you have to build your own ladder to climb out of your illness. you prolly don’t believe me and that is OK just keep on keeping on. it will change. really. i am there.

I’ve struggled with postpartum OCD since the birth of my daughter 2 years ago. Most days I didn’t want to live. It’s a hell that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. And although it sucks that others deal with the same sort of issues, there’s comfort in knowing I’m not alone.

It is hard to understand when you can still feel joy and yet want to be dead. I am not actively suicidal, but at the same time I feel as if I don’t want to be here. I have moments that are joy and yet the dark can still come in. I am trying to say I understand completely.

Damn…don’t I absolutely completely understand. It’s a battle I have fought for years…and it was made worse by a disabling injury 5 years ago that leaves me emotionally crippled with pain. I fight it. I force those smiles. I love my kids – my only joy. I keep fighting. I know…

My Middle School best friend took her life Wednesday. She was surrounded by people who love her and need her and tried to help her. She was a dancer, and rescuer, and a giver… And Depression lied to her. She struggled with easting disorders and depression for almost 30 years. She lectured to thousands of teen girls about body image and the lies that we tell ourselves about how we’re not good enough… and although she helped thousands, she couldn’t help herself. And the world is a little less wonderful with her not here. I wish she could have found you. Maybe she’d still be here too….

Saw this online in a writers’ workshop description: “Contrary to popular belief, writing funny doesn’t mean sacrificing depth. On the contrary, for most literary writers the comic impulse is inexplicitly linked to tragedy.”

It inspired one woman that I know to finally take the step to get the help she needed – help that I wasn’t aware she needed so desperately.

Another friend who is dealing with terrible depression and some other health issues that limit the meds she can take, and who has been inpatient hospitalized twice in the past year? She has that link programmed into her calendar so that every few weeks it reminds her to go watch it. It is helping her slowly crawl up from depths I can’t even imagine.

what an amazing post… and so true… sometimes it’s hard to see the light when you’re in the midst of a depression bout … and going on twitter or to blogs and seeing the others and getting the support makes all the difference in the world.

I love that you wrote this. I have had bouts of depression. But my problem lies more severely in the area of anxiety, which is closely related to depression (and sometimes leads to it). I get bad anxiety and sometimes terrible panic attacks. And when that happens, I tend to spiral downward. More anxiety. More panic. More depression. And the one thing that helps is to just accept that this is part of who I am. This will pass. I will ride the storm. And It’s okay to feel this way. Fighting it can backfire. Accepting it and letting it enter can sometimes, in and of itself, keep it from entering.

Jenny, you are remarkable in so many beautiful, astounding ways. And I suspect there are way more than 20 peeps around these days because of you. Cheers to that number growing by leaps and bounds. And thank you for being honest and sincere and not the least apologetic for who you are. And BTW, Hailey couldn’t have chosen a better Mom. Hang tight – we’re all spinning alongside you!!

I just want to echo that you’re not alone. I have chronic depression, and although I’m ok right now (my meds are working very well), there’s always that little “what if I can’t stave it off” floating around in the back of my mind. Depression runs in my family, so at least I have relatives–and a very understanding hubby–who get it (what depression is like). So you’re in my thoughts. And if you ever want to talk about it, I’d be happy to chat.

A few months ago, you inspired me to write honestly on my own blog about my struggles with depression. And now my teeny tiny little blog is helping a couple more people realize they are not alone. And maybe some of those people will talk about their depression on their blogs now.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts and feelings.
I’m currently struggling with an approaching depression relapse. I can feel it creeping up, despite the meds. Every morning the bed keeps calling me back. Sometimes it wins; sometimes I do. I’m tired of the seemingly neverending cycle – counselling, medication, more counselling, more medication. It’s exhausting. Even more tiring is the act I have to put on for everyone else – the jokes, the antics, the smiles, the smartass comments. Because no one wants to be around the fat depressed woman.
Thank you for brightening my day – I need every little ray I can get my hands on.

When I was young my grandma used to take all of us cousins to a theme park every year. The most memorable time was the year we went to Magic Mountain and it rained and all of the rides closed. I don’t know why I remember that one above all of the others, but we all had an amazing time and eventually it stopped and we all got to ride again.

Bless you for being you — wonderful, amazing, courageous, laugh-out-loud-funny, uniquely special you.
At the risk of sounding too religious — the kingdom of God is not only something in the future, some place where God, and not this world, gets the last word — it is something people are called to work to bring about in the now. Thank you for your courageous efforts to bring about God’s kingdom of love and belonging here today.

Thank you so much for your honesty and for keeping it all so real. One of my friends from high school lost her father to suicide over the weekend, and it breaks my heart to feel that he believed the lie. He didn’t see how it could get better. I am so grateful that you and your readers are able to keep it real and expose the truth that depression lies. It doesn’t last forever, and there is something to stick around for. Thank you.

SInce the last two trips with my family to Disney World coincided with my being physically ill (throat infection last time, ear infection before that), I know something about smiling thru things. I wasn’t going to be the one to bring the family vacation down. But on the subject of depression, this is a very real and powerful thing in my life now. I’ve finally found the strenght to get help. It was hard: the very things we need to do to fight depression are made almost impossible by depression. Right at this precise moment, I’m feeling lost. And then this tweet comes along linking to this article and it was probably the thing I most needed to hear. Thank you.

Do y’know, one of my most favorite moments from the last few years came on a day when depression was lying. It was throwing just about everything it had at me.

And then it started to rain. Not just a little bit of that misty “I’ll be a real raindrop when I grow up!” kind of rain, but RAIN, pouring down in sheets. And it hit just exactly as I got a short break at work. So I did what any responsible grown-up would do.

I ran…RAN…out the front door of my store, out from under the awning, and threw my arms wide as I lifted my face to the torrential downpour. And in that moment, I was furiously happy. In that moment, depression COULDN’T LIE TO ME ANYMORE.

My husband comitted suicide a year ago. We have 3 kids, 10, 5 and 2 yrs old. I spent the first few months trying to figure out how we could all die too. It was a horrible place to be and prior to that I never understood depression because I’d never been that low. I still don’t understand it, really, because I still love life and I’m determined this won’t define us. Don’t give in to the dark cloud.

You are so wonderful and I know together we are strong enough to make it through this crazy journey we call life.
P.S. Ronald Weaseley with the wig is making me think of Harry Potter Puppet Pals and the video where Ginny cuts her hair and Harry has Ron wear a bow to practice asking Ginny out and then can’t tell them apart. Just thought that might make you sorta smile.

Beautiful. You always inspire me. And it’s true, some of the funniest and most intelligent people I know suffer from depression as well, including me. That’s not to say I am funny or intelligent. Whatever. Fuck that. I’m a hilarious genius.

*nods* I am a “me too” as well. I have lived with depression for over thirty years, sometimes just to spite it. I live with an anxiety/panic disorder where my startle response to a loud noise scared the shrink doing the eval. Sometimes all you can do is look depression in the eye and flip it off. Sometimes all you can do is go take a nap. “It gets better” is the hardest thing to remember, and the most important thing to keep hold of. Thank you for reminding us, and reminding us we’re not hanging out here on this creaky limb alone. =)

Jenny, your story moved me today and the images of your daughter are truly joyful.
Here’s to “the raindrops” and your incredible honesty straight from the heart.
With appreciation of wonderful you Jenny!

Thank you. Again. And again and again and again. Your blog is a place I go sometimes when I want to ignore the world and escape into the computer. I found this link through twitter: http://www.lettersofnote.com/2009/10/it-will-be-sunny-one-day.html and I saved it as another weapon against those days that attack me just by being there. I hope it helps if you need it, or if anyone else needs it I hope they see it here or somewhere.

I’m grinning and crying at the same time here. One of my fondest memories is dancing in the rain with my girl in a torrential downpour after 2 weeks of a super hot spell. Our neighbour actually came out and joined us and we had a blast. It’s days like that that I embrace and sometimes cling to by the fingernails. It gets better… not always fast and never for ever, but it will pass. Remember we’re all cheering for you.

I sit here reading this post, with my “Never Give Up” pendant on that I have not taken off since I got it for my birthday, shedding a tear not out of sadness, but out of understanding. Aside from my own battle with depression, a friend of mine committed suicide on May 1st. Most of us did not know of the anguish he suffered. I wish so much he would have said something, shown something, but he didn’t. He kept his depression hidden, and it cost him his life. Now the rest of us are left with so much loss, confusion, and pain. Thank you for speaking out about this terrible, evil illness that robs so many of the joy that life can bring.

There are a lot of us out here. And you are the place we come to congregate. To give and receive strength and hope and little light balls. Funny isn’t necessary, it’s just a fantastic bonus. Real is all we ever want when we come here. Love you.

I want to reach out an give you a hug. I have been a regular visitor to your blog for several years now, and over that time, I have laughed, cried and been in awe of your talent, your humour and your gift for expression. I cried today as I feel like I may just be beginning to understand the torment of my severely depressed mother. I have been angry and confused by the depression that haunts my mum, and I am constantly at a loss as to how to help. Your blog, with your insights and those of the other readers, is opening my eyes. Thank you.

It’s so good to be reminded that you’re not alone with depression; that other people are going through the same things. And the fact that so many lives are still here because of that sense of community…that’s just amazing.

Yes. Depression is a mutherfuckin’ liar!!!! I felt it pulling at me today (as it does whenever I’m about to get my period- thanks mother nature for this once a month time of obnoxiousness) but was at least able to tell myself that depression lies, and it’s just hormones affecting my brain.

I just want to thank you for being honest. Your honesty helps others be honest about their struggles. As someone that suffers from depression and anxiety, your honesty inspires me to be more honest, whether that be with my husband or therapist. Also, thanks for making me laugh. Because somedays, that is what I really needs. Just a lot of laughter.

Yep, right there with you. I was off work over the weekend and spent the majority of it curled up on my couch, aside from a couple of panic-stricken trips for food. I kept telling myself, depression lies, this isn’t forever, it does get better. And I made it to work today, and am feeling closer to normal.

This song has always reminded me of my journey through – and beyond – depression:
“The Cave”
Mumford & Sons
It’s empty in the valley of your heart
The sun, it rises slowly as you walk
Away from all the fears
And all the faults you’ve left behind

The harvest left no food for you to eat
You cannibal, you meat-eater, you see
But I have seen the same
I know the shame in your defeat

But I will hold on hope
And I won’t let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I’ll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I’ll know my name as it’s called again

Cause I have other things to fill my time
You take what is yours and I’ll take mine
Now let me at the truth
Which will refresh my broken mind

So tie me to a post and block my ears
I can see widows and orphans through my tears
I know my call despite my faults
And despite my growing fears

But I will hold on hope
And I won’t let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I’ll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I’ll know my name as it’s called again

So come out of your cave walking on your hands
And see the world hanging upside down
You can understand dependence
When you know the maker’s land

So make your siren’s call
And sing all you want
I will not hear what you have to say

Cause I need freedom now
And I need to know how
To live my life as it’s meant to be

And I will hold on hope
And I won’t let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I’ll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I’ll know my name as it’s called again

You’re so much more than just funny, Jenny. Funny can’t sustain someone for as long as it has sustained you and your fan base. You are alive. You face life exactly as it is. You don’t censor yourself or write to make others happy. That’s why you’re one of my heros. That’s why I come back to this blog.

I appreciate the sentiment here, and even I just gave someone anti-suicide advice two weeks ago. The difference (in my mind) is that she has a young son.

I am heading down that suicide track currently. I call it future suicidal. Not to boast, but I’m intelligent. I’ve had generalized anxiety and depression for 20 years. I know their tricks. But something came to my realization this past year. No therapy and no drug will fix my depression. It is strictly derived from lack of money, lack of having my own life, my own place, etc. This would have to be fixed for the depression to clear.

Problem is, here’s what I’m facing after 20 years: I have been denied disability, twice. I get no aid (other than food stamps, which last 2-3 weeks for 2 people). I am penniless. I can not find ANY single way to earn money. Therapy, which I now have after 7 years of trying to find it at no cost, is not changing anything. Society, which is to blame, is not going to change. I can not change society.

I have been unemployed almost 10 years. I have been intimately alone, without even a hug, for 15. I’ve had one girlfriend. In high school. I have nothing to offer a woman my age (40). I have issues and tastes that make it unlikely I’ll find someone to be with, ever.

I have no money. No career. No purpose. No identity. No love. I’m facing life alone. I have no life. No ability to do anything. I don’t like what most people like. I don’t get along with men. I never meet anyone to make friends. I can’t volunteer (same reason I can’t find work, my anxiety). I’m facing a lonely, pointless existence with no aid… and no hope.

I’m not suicidal. Not now. But in another 5 years? 10? When I realize it’s true I’ll never have sex again? Never have a career again?

Things will change at that point. And since I never got to be with someone, never had kids… It will be as if I never existed a few moments after my death.

Dear, dear, Jenny & every single person here who is fighting this thing:

Just repeat it, like a mantra, that it is all lies, the things depression would have you believe. I know this is not something that you don’t know. I know you know this. But it can’t hurt to have someone outside of it say it too, right?

I don’t know how to tell you how much this post was needed right now. I am struggling so much lately trying to dig out. I have ok days, I have bad days and I have REALLY bad days. Having 4 kids I have to always put on the ‘happy front’ and it is exhausting! So Thank You for being open, honest and willing to post this stuff. I’m trying to make myself remember your line … “depression lies”.

Thank you! For all of the laughs and the tears, today included. This last year has been very hard, because I can’t find a full time job and my daughter is graduating high school. Between the college apps and trying to figure out where the deposit will come from (much less rent and food!) and not having insurance for myself, I’ve found myself cycling in and out of depression. The worst time was when I caught myself thinking that, since she isn’t 18 she’d be a ward of the state if I died and the state would pay for college. I made myself talk to my sister at that point so that I would have someone watching over me to make sure I didn’t get to the point where I actually wanted to kill myself. One thing that has helped has been you, Jenny. You’ve made me laugh and cry, but most importantly, you’ve been there to remind me that depression lies. I hope you are able to stave off this episode. Enjoy Disney World and your family every bit you can! **Hugs**

im a “me too” … I suffer from Dysthymia (type of depression for those who dont know, as i didnt before my diagnosis) I regularly go into a black hole and have even gotten to the point where i realize there is an episode on the way (my current feeling) and this post and subsequent comments have made me #furiouslyhappy 🙂 the best one I saw, “whoever said sunshine is pure happiness, has never danced in the rain” is perfect. thank you!

Depression is a lying bitch. But sometimes, I think, it tells you “You’ve been too busy, you need to hibernate, so I’m gonna turn off your energy for a bit”. And even a lying bitch sometimes has a valid point. Take care of yourself. Have fun at Disney, but do take some time to rest too. We can wait till you have the energy to be funny again.

thank you for speaking so frankly about your experience with depression. i too suffer, sometimes more, sometimes less, and being a member of the AA program, know many, many people who do as well. i found this post on fb just as i am scrolling through, just having come back from a meeting where there was so much sadness and loss over a friend’s suicide last night. it is such a struggle for so many, thank you for being you, for being so brave, and so wonderful!!

Thank you!! I have only just recently found your blog and have finished your book (getting ready to relisten to it with a friend on a road trip). Depression does lie! Your post today comes at such a perfect time for me as I’m feeling a slip back into it. I’ve struggled with it all my life and I can say that reading your blog posts, listening to your book has been so refreshing and fun! So thank you Jenny, thank you for being you and sharing all of you, humor and depression, with us so that we know we are not alone!!!
Your daughter is a beautiful little girl!! It’s amazing how they teach us as much if not more than we teach them!!

I can feel it coming for me like a frieght train, barreling toward me. the smothering darkness of yet another potentially serious bout of depression. i never know if it’s going to be worse than the last time, but i always assume that it is. i won’t take the medications, they just make me feel worse, and i’d rather feel something than nothing, even if it is the awfulness of wanting to die. and i feel increidbly alone in this. and basically i am. isolated. cut off from myself. hiding (or trying to hide it) from my friends. estranged from my family, and even now without a therapist to talk to. and i feel it coming for me. and somehow, it makes me feel the teensiest bit better knowing that someone else “out there” is fighting along with me. not fighting for me. not fighting for my life, but fighting for their own. and it makes me feel like maybe this time it won’t be as bad as the last time, and maybe i can weather this, yet again. and i know that you say depression lies, but i believe the lies. i beleive that i am worthless, and unloveable, and ugly, and detestable. and that’s my own cross to bear i suppose, but thank you for fighting, and not giving in and not giving up, cause in some weird way, it’s helping me to hang on.

Ah Jenny. Once again, you dazzle me. I want to be you when I grow up. If I ever get around to growing up… At 26 and not finished with my undergrad degree, I loathe myself to a moderate degree, but on days when I read your posts, I sometimes think I might end up ok. You make me want to stop hiding and tell the world depression is not a sin and it isn’t contagious. And so I whisper it to the internets in my blog. And maybe someday I’ll shout it from the rooftops like you, Ms. Bloggess. Thanks for being the leader of the Unicorn Success Club.

This brought tears to my eyes. every word, so true. Thank you for being so honest and open. Thank you for bringing the darkness into light. Thank you for capturing it SO perfectly- I am forwarding to my (always supportive) husband so that he can maybe understand just a bit more…

It lies? I’ve always thought of it in terms of differing layers of a wet, heavy blanket. Sometimes, they are dark and impossible to see through and other times, it just makes the light dimmer.
This is a new version to think of.
How to separate the lies from the truth?
How do you know the where the separation is?
At what point do you realise the lies?

Hailey is so beautiful. Her joy in those photos is tangible, contagious. I would imagine she can turn your mood a bit brighter even on the hard days, just experiencing that joy.

I don’t comment often, but I needed you to know that on those days when my fibromyalgia has me unable to walk without assistance, when depression is eating at my psyche… those are the days that your blog brings me a bit of joy. Or a lot, truth be told… You’re an inspiring woman, precisely because you DO know what it’s like, the pain and the depression, and yet you keep going.

So yea, thank you. Thank you for reminding me that depression lies, and that there will be good days following the bad, even if I have 35 bad days in a row, #36 could be the best I’ve had in ages. Thank you.

I struggle with mental illness. I’m Bipolar II and Borderline with all the lovely things like severe depression and anxiety that go along with it. In fact I’ve been in a year long out patient treatment program that has helped me make great strides since my husband’s death from cancer 2 1/2 years ago.

I started reading your blog when I felt healthier.

I am now in a in a severe bout of depression.

Ok, that sounds bad…lemme ‘splain!

I’ve just come off of an anti-depressant and we’re messing around with my mood stabilizers so right now I’m struggling…big time… but it’s not ’cause I started reading your blog, I swear!

Actually your blog makes me laugh even when I feel the hopeless feeling creeping in. You make me laugh even when that gray pall of depression colours everything I see.

But more than anything…even more than the laughter…I see that I am not alone.

I see that it’s temporary.

I repeat your words, “DEPRESSION LIES”.

Everything may not feel ok right now but the place you’ve created here feels like a safe place to come and smile or just feel the support of all those other people who type two simple words:

At first I was all, L Why her daughter dressed like a polygamist?” Then I was thinking maybe that’s why you’re feeling depressed. Polygamy is seriously depressing. Then I realized she’s totally Alice in Wonderland. So it’s cool. And on a more serious note I’m saving this post for my dark days. Thank you for being brave enough to write it.

And you make twenty-one. and tomorow will be 22 and so on…………GOOD People surround those who are in harm or distress. It is our make-up and I thank God each day for the complete strangers that have passed in and out of my life that GAVE ME A NEW WAY OF SEEING THINGS. A perspective that some really shitty things happened to me and I was not at fault and had no power to stop it. Today I do have that power. I am the one that protected that little girl, me. Not from harm but was kind to her and with the ability to get lost in one’s mind to block out the pain. That little girl will always speak to me when instances arise that are similar in feelings and it is my voice now that calms her iwhen she kept me close.

This week has been one of the biggest struggles of my life. I have talked myself in and out of killing myself dozens, if not hundreds of times. I’ve always had depression, but it was never like this. All I could think about was how alone I was. Thank you for this post. Thank you for making me realize that I can keep fighting.

Awesome Jenny. It IS about laughing, no matter what the reason. (Sometimes, we have a good reason, sometimes we have to make one up. Whatever the reason, laughter is all good.) And your daughter is adorable. I thank you for your willingness to talk about it, and to let us all know we’re not alone.

Oh my. I first want to thank you for your blog and your fighting spirit, and thank you to all of your readers who take the bit in their teeth and post comments that DEPRESSION LIES!!! and that we are not alone!

I watched my beautiful mother fight anxiety and depression, and now I do, too. I was incredibly lucky to seek help very early in my adulthood, somehow knowing to lay the groundwork for later by trusting and talking to professionals, even though I seemed to be “normal” at the time. Or so I thought. I was told I had latent anxiety and depression, and that if I ever felt it was starting to interfere with my normal functioning, I should seek help. I was shocked by this diagnosis, but sure enough, there came a time fifteen years later…

…The pamphlet listed twelve signs of depression, and if you have this many out of the list (I forget what the magical number was) you should get help. I counted eleven-and-a-half, because I was not REALLY suicidal…was I? GLORK! After four weeks on Paxil, I got out of bed one morning, took three steps, and STOPPED dead in my tracks! I realized I had been thinking that it’s time I got out of bed and found out what good things would happen this day! Whoa!

It is now twelve years later. They will only pry the Paxil away from me from my cold, dead fingers, but I still have bouts of depression. I am so glad I found your blog when I did, because now I suspect that MENOPAUSE is a lying bitch too, but we will get through it, har-dee-har-har!!

I am sorry this is so long. I am sorry I didn’t blog this instead of comment here. But I am NOT ashamed to say I love you even though we have never met! You are my super-hero!

(PS: Do we have a name? Lady Gaga has her Little Monsters….Jenny’s Minions?…Jenny’s Little Chickens?…)

You beautifully put into words what so many of us can’t seem to say. Thank you for sharing your world, and your wisdom, with us. After reading your blog and your book, I am reminded that I am not alone in this and it will get better. It is about laughing and picking yourself up again and again and again.

My wife has depression. I am a man. I want to fix things. I can’t fix her depression.
I really loved this post and our daughter loves to jump in puddles.
I don’t cry often, but wow, what a blubbering idiot I was just now sitting on the couch by myself.

I admire you and the fact that you state that depession is a lie. I myself have been in and out of it for way over 30 years. But there is a light at the end of the tunnel…and every day I keep reaching for that light…Strive for happiness…

As end of school year approaches each year for my kids, it’s not grades that matter, it’s fact that they made it through another year without any indications that they may suffer their mom’s lifelong fate – they have been spared being afflicted with mental illness. Last week we celebrated kid #2 graduating high school and are preparing for her to leave for college end of summer. Sadly this school break for the 2nd year, I am unable to spare them living with my untreated illness – but especially the difficult challenge I’m faced with daily in my inability to cope with life’s circumstances. But, they have been the best of medicine through all the years of figuring out what was really wrong with me and how best to take care… Their smiles, laughter, companionship… unconditional love keeps me here.

I don’t think I believe in “reasons” for a particular person to have depression because that starts to feel like some kind of fucked up plan to me. I don’t like the idea that any one suffers from depression as part of some higher power’s plan for them to, at some point, form a part of someone else’s support network, I know that wasn’t Jenny’s point and I am a long time lover (only recent commentorator) of the blog but I don’t feel like that is ever the best way to view it.

I do believe in the power of a support group though and know that when I pulled back from the edge of the abyss and decided not to kill myself some amazing people in IRL and on the internet supported the everloving fuck out of me. I have no doubt that this community performed the same function for others who stood where I stood. I’m not glad others had to go through huge amounts of crap to be able to relate to how I felt at that time but I am glad that they shared their experiences with me when in mattered. Their generosity is matched only by my gratefulness.

Wow…sad and beautiful all at the same time. I just had a friend of mine leave, who suffers with depression and right now she is so happy! She has found someone, who she just found out has bipolar…and the reason she visited me was to ask me if I knew much about someone with bipolar that lives in a house that you cannot move in. He is also a severe hoarder, where you walk in a maze inside his house.

I decided to look for some inspiring stories to send to her. This one certainly touches me, even if it doesn’t relate to her situation.

I don’t know if I’m one of your official 20 but if not, please add me to your file. Seriously. I had a very bad day a couple weeks ago and the only thing I could think through the mess was “depression lies” and I stayed up late and cried and watched your video. And the next damn day I was fine. That bitch does lie, she does. Hey – your peripheral vision loss … could it be related to migraine auras somehow? But instead of migraines, you get a bout of severe depression??

I’ve been there too lately, sensing an oncoming depression. Sometimes I wonder, when I feel the darkness seeping back in, if my expectation that depression is inevitable is fueling a cycle in my brain. Maybe if we looked at the inevitability of being well again with as much excitement as we look at being depressed again with dread, it would come on just as strongly.

It is quite obvious on Hailey’s face that she very much appreciated your effort hanging in there while at Disney World. She’s absolutely adorable smiling in the dress in the rain 🙂

I hope your time in the black pit of doom is a short one. will be sending strong happy thoughts your way. *hugs*

Thank you for being there for so many. You are such an inspiration.

PS! My daughter just started reading your book. She is laughing so hard, now everyone she’s sharing a house with wants to read it too. It won’t take long until this book of yours can be found in all languages on earth, I’m sure of it!

I agree wholeheartedly.. my depression was a horrible bastard that was eating me alive, and I drank heavily just to make myself survive, and I tried to take my own life , I cut and bled and nobody cared , I tried to gas myself in a car, it almost worked except someone or something pulled me out. Things improved by steps when I met my husband..he would sit down in the corner with me and tell me I was worth it, that I was loved, and that people would care if I left. I started to feel strong and confident again, I stopped drinking to bury my pain and I started talking about the way I felt. I have bad days still..sometimes bad weeks..but when I found your blog and read the posts, I knew that I wasn’t the only one fighting that battle anymore, that there were other people who fought with those same demons and they were winning by inches,each time beating them a little more, and I realized that while I am not always well in my head, I am not in that illness all by myself with nobody to turn to. If it wasn’t for my husband, I would be dead, but if it wasn’t for this blog, I would still feel like I was alone. I’m so glad those 20 people are fighting the depression with us..each time someone gives up we all get a little weaker ..so it’s worth the fight, for all of us.

Maybe it’s because I just came out the other side of a 3 year long depression, not my first, and cos this one nearly killed me, I nearly killed me…and it wouldn’t have been the first time I tried…but I didn’t. I’m still here, I won this one! And I am crying so hard that I am shaking…and they are tears of happiness and relief! THANK YOU for helping me realise I won again…cos depression lies, it lies a lot and I didn’t believe it this time! 😀

I’m rather new to this blog and had no idea that you suffered from depression, and yet I am not surprised. All of the most interesting, funny and creative people I know invariably seem to suffer from various mental issues. To think that you and your community have saved 20 (no doubt even more than that) of these gems makes me cry with happiness. I have luckily never experienced depression, my demon is anxiety, another well versed liar, and it was such a relief for me to find out how many suffer from that as well. Not being alone lessens the pain and fear a lot!

Thanks for just being you!! 🙂

PS: Although I hate that the first thing one usually comments about girls is how they look, but to hell with it; you’re daughter is such a cutie!

I do so admire your strength and your ability to say what we all feel inside but cant seem to find the words. I was staring it in the face a couple of years back, had even picked out the -place and the method but i was convinced by a close friend to talk to somebody and ensure i was making the decision properly and clearly. I’m glad i did. I didn’t climb that bridge and i have continued to feel better. I still have dark days but that’s the point, i still have days. Some of them might be dark but some are great. Depression is a sneaky beast but if you can hold on in one tiny corner of your mind to that fact, that it lies, that it befuddles….. you can resist. Thank you for giving voice to what so many can only scream in the silence of their minds xx

Life is not always funny, satirical or full of irony. Sometimes its just life. You are exhausted I am sure after your tour and just trying to enjoy downtime with your family. I don’t dare say that I know you but in general, people put a lot more expectations on themselves than anybody else does. Relax and rest without fear that anybody expects more than you expect of yourself, because I am pretty sure everybody else but yourself is expecting you to relax. We all understand the ups and downs and a lot of us have experienced the heartbreak of somebody that decided to get off the ride. Their legacy is not only the pain they leave behind but the absolute imprint of selfishness and destruction in their wake. Our forgiveness to them lies in that their loss leads to teaching that no one, and I mean no one, is allowed to hurt the people they love like that. Which is why anyone left who has ever felt such pain or witnessed such loss should realize whatever evil, deep dark thoughts are making them think that is a right path or a path of peace should step back right away. We don’t live for ourselves, we live for those around us. Your hilarious website and even more vital, your beautiful daughter is a perfect example of that. Have a wonderful and so richly deserved vacation with your family.

Yes you are correct. Sometimes the people who are nearest us have a hard time understanding what we are going through because they just don’t get it. It’s not their fault. But I absolutely believe in the miracle of the support system of all of us depressed people out there, and voicing things out – the way you do, the way some of us anonymously but publicly do – and it helps. Just reading your posts AND the responses. It is so comforting to know that I am not alone in this. That I am not as abnormal as I thought I was.

I actually told my boss about what I was going through. And he was all “You of all people? I would never have thought in a million years you were depressed.” And you’re right. Depression lies. And we all try and fake it sometimes, most times. I think it’s mostly because of the people we love, so they’re a bit more insulated from the black hole.

Anyways, too long now. But thank you for being an inspiration Jenny. And thanks for being the way, the medium that we can all be a community 🙂

Thank you. I was not lucky enough to read this blog the last serious bout I had, but I did have SOMEONE. My dear father in law who read my mind and knew what I was thinking. And his support is why I’m in this world today. However, his loss is one that has the world grim again, and knowing that although the circumstances for our pain are different, the fact that I do not suffer in solitude helps.
RIP Larry. I will forever love you for the father you were to me.

Jenny,
I want you to know that because of your book, I have finally, after years of thinking about it, am writing a book from my journal entries. I am 40 pages into it, typing like a madwoman all of those entries that I put my heart into many years ago after the death of my husband. Although I have thought about it for several years, I just never thought that I would have the energy to go back through and read all that pain. I’ve realized after over a week of typing that it is therapeutic. 🙂 Thank you again for your book and for this blog, you have changed my outlook on life in so many ways.

@beccaann: I see Jenny’s “depression support network” not as part of some Higher Power’s detailed plan (that she should suffer so as to help others), but as Jenny’s response to the situation that she finds herself in. Just as Hailey took the rain she encountered at DW and turned it into a joyous thing, her mother takes the rainstorm she finds herself in, and transforms it into something which helps others (and herself as well, I suspect.)

I’m like Hailey–always trying to find the happiness in seemingly bleak situations and laughing in the rain. And loving the teapcups! They always made my brother sick, but I could spin and spin and spin without a care in the world.

Reading your blog has helped me understand more my friends who do suffer from depression. I may not have to deal with depression in my own head, but I do deal with it in my friends’ heads. To them and all of you who suffer from depression, please tell us when you start to fall into the hole. We are here for you, but we often don’t see the signs until you’re deep in the hole. We may not be able to keep you from sliding into the hole, but at least we can get a rope down there to help you with the climb out.

Thank you. Thank you because in my dreams lately you have been my friend – because in my waking life I feel as though I have none. Thank you for making me see how insane I am when I scream at my husband for something the rational bit of me knows doesn’t matter and then hide in bed or the shower so I can cry.
I just turned 33 and I find my life to be unbearable. I had been making it through this past 6 months thinking maybe 33 would be better, but just before 33 I lost my 3 closest friend in one fell swoop. They turned on me, with my best friend screaming at me in a hostile and unapologetic manner and making me cry in public – in the name of business.
So it seems my only birthday gift this year has been too be too poor to pay bills, being so incredibly overwhelmed I don’t want to do the one thing I truly love (theatre) , being so depressed I don’t want to be alone but when my husband is around I’m mean to him and the treasonous loss of the person I thought I could trust more than anyone else.
Thank you for sometimes being the only thing that can make me happy.

Thank you from all of us for being our voice when we cannot find the words. You know….some of the funniest people I know suffer from depression too! In fact; I’m darn funny…or so I’ve been told. Your daughter is beautiful and so is mine..in fact we’re all beautiful darn it! We WILL keep fighting, keep getting help, keep taking our meds and keep going for our families, our friends and ourselves. You rock girl!

Thank you so much for this. My eyes do the exact same no peripheral vision thing too when I get really depressed and I’ve NEVER heard anyone else describe it that way. All of the things you mention in here like reframing the situation or expressing gratitude are great depression busters too but I find I really need the right meds and all of those tools to keep it at bay sometimes. I wish you much rest and care and keep telling that lying bastard of depression that he doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about.

I love you Jenny! This post came at just the right time for me. I can’t really go into it all on a public blog, but my life has been spiraling lately and every day is a struggle to get out of bed and live. I’m sitting here with tears in my eyes, realizing that there ARE people out there who get it. That thought alone is enough to keep me from tipping over the edge.

“I realize how incongruous that picture is in a post about depression.”

I think that incongruity is a perfect demonstration of the horror of depression. That you can be surrounded by those you love the most, in the middle of what should be a joyful experience, you may even successfully be wearing a figurative mask and laughing it up with everyone else… and yet inside all is dark, you are marking time, struggling to get past this moment, then this moment, until the night comes and you can escape into sleep.

Above, Ann begs her friends to let her know when they’re heading toward the black hole so she can help. My advice is, have that conversation with your friend when she’s well, because it’s when you start to get sick that you often, cruelly, resist asking for help or seeking treatment. ask her what the signs are that she’s sliding–does she begin to isolate herself? Overeat? Undereat? Stop participating in things she normally loves? Does she get angry easily? (Anger is a symptom of depression.) One of the smartest things I ever did as a person with clinical depression is recognize that the sicker I get, perversely the less likely it is I’ll seek help. So I empowered some select friends and family to confront me when they saw the signs, and remind me that, when I am well and thinking logically, I KNOW I need to go to the doctor as soon as I start to have symptoms.

Now you don’t have to announce your symptoms to the world on a blog, but I am so grateful that Jenny does, because if she has the guts to share her greatest vulnerabilities with us all, we should all realize that we can do the same with our best friend, our spouse, our doctor. And that outpouring of support that Jenny gets–that’s for all of us, too. I don’t know if I’m one of Jenny’s 20 emails, but that damn metal chicken and Victor’s words “[Quitting] might be easier, but it wouldn’t be better” held me together one day last summer long enough to call a crisis line when I was experiencing the scariest moment of my life. And for each of those 20 emails, I believe there are many, many more who have found solace and strength from this ongoing discussion, this shining of light on an illness that affects so many, but that so many suffer from in silence.

Beautiful girl, she makes me want to go out catching raindrops. Lady, you are truly special. I agree with you, this wonderful blogging, Facebooking and Tweeting community is all about support. But nobody would be able to comment “me too” if you didn’t post as honestly and eloquently as you do. Seriously dude.

Jenny-You inspire me so much. Your blog and all of your followers make me feel part of something so much bigger then myself and the depression I suffer from. I have been in the darkest depression of my entire life lately and I went searching for blogs that could help me “fix” it. I came across your blog, I can’t even remember how now, and I laughed. I realized I laughed out loud for the first time in months. I needed something more then some expert telling me if I did this or that, I could fix myself. You, and your ability to face the truth of depression, and embrace it, and find humor in some of the most fucked up situations, brought light to me again. You and your followers have shown me that I am not alone, I am not broken, It’s okay to not be perfect. You are loved Jenny. You are respected. You are not alone. I will light a candle for you, sending positive energy your way, to help light the way out of your current depression.

holy moly. I just started reading your blog, and this one almost made me cry. I have depressive episodes, and a constant low-grade depression fever, but take meds. I still have break-thru days, that the meds can’t suppress completely, and it took me so long to realize what you just said, that depression lies. It tells me there is no hope, no happiness, no answers, and that no one would understand what I was feeling because it doesn’t make sense.
Thank you for your blog.

How can you not smile looking at her on the teacups? Personally, if I were on the teacups you’d have a picture of me slowly turning green then exploding.

I do not suffer from depression, but I do suffer from anxiety attacks, IBS (which was much harder to deal with when I was in the Army), and ever-increasing OCD. Its so embarassing, forcing your husband to turn the car around just so you can make sure that you put the garage door down, because if you didnt then someone will break into your house, then they will steal your guns, then they will shoot a cop with YOUR gun, and maybe it will be YOUR husband because he is a cop, and then he will be dead, and you’ll be alone, and then the house will foreclose, and it will all be your fault because YOU left the garage door up and then and tehn and then.

And of course he doesnt get it, becuase brains shouldnt work that way, but they do. OR mine does, and becuase of this blog I know that alot of other peoples brains work this way too, and just knowing that makes it less embarrassing.

I’m in total awh at how you handle things! And so glad to know that it is possible to get through those times of depression! I love to read your blog and your book – you give people great joy in everything you say! Feel better friend!!!! Thank you for being you and honest at all times. You make me laugh!

You are so awesome. SOOOO awesome. Your blog is the first place I heard “depression lies”. It has become my mantra on days when I feel that I’m insignificant. Thank you and thank all of your readers and commenters. (commentors? Damn it, spellcheck! I know what I want to say!)

When my attacks come on I feel like I have a black cloud over my head and whichever way I turn, I can’t get out from under it. Now I know what it is, I know to ask for help to get me over it…. and I know it will disappear as quickly as it came and the sun will shine again.

Thank you once again Jenny for talking so openly about your depression. You continue to help a lot of people with everything you do, and by being able to write about this stuff that so many people suffer from silently. I wish I could have made it to your book signing in Houston – I would love to meet you someday. You inspire me.

Depression is SUCH a Liar! A Liar-liar-pants-on-Fire!
And to it I quote the immortal words that Valerie yelled at Miracle Max…
“Humperdink! HumperdinkHumperdinkHumperdink!!!”
Your writing is a way to shout down the insidious whispering of Lying Depression and your voice helps so many others.

I have suffered from depression since childhood. Nothing terrible happened to me (that I know of); it is just a chemical imbalance. Because of my experience, I was quick to recognize the same symptoms in my son. He is 8 (almost 9) and takes an anti-depressant every day. It has helped – the psychiatrist was alarmed that he knew exactly how he would kill himself. Again, he is only 8.
I tell you this to let you know how you have helped. I have told him (and his brother, and my niece) that when he feels hopeless and that special kind of sad, to remember that his brain is lying to him. It has helped. YOU have helped.
Thank you.

Thank you for this post. I’m another depressive and your posts about depression are always helpful to me. Pictures of a beautiful child laughing sure help a lot too. 🙂 Probably the most important thing a depressive can remember is how strong they are, how they’ve been plunged into the depths over and over and still managed to make it back to the surface. Take care.

I hope you know that even on the days or even during the weeks where you think you’re “not funny” you make me smile, and you make me want to try harder and fight through another day. Thank you.
Also, thank you for sharing those wonderful photos of Hailey at Disney, she has a contagious smile!

Oh my goodness… Hailey is SO happy! It’s just radiating from her!! What a cutie! And her dress is adorable!

I also love that all of this innocent childhood happiness is juxtaposed with the fact that this has been a life-saving blog for people suffering from depression. It really drives home the fact that you just can’t control when this stuff hits you.
Looking at the pictures you’ve included would make anyone who’s never had depression think, “How could depression hit you while looking at that little face?!”… but the fact is that it does, because it’s a bitch, and I really applaud you for holding it in as best you could.
For me, nothing has really illustrated just how uncontrollable depression can be, until these pics. Confessing how it attacked in the middle of a day where obviously every activity was overflowing with joy (even a rain storm), and including the pictures of your daughter caught in the middle of childhood bliss, really drives home the whole “Wherever, Whenever” attack mode of depression.

Hi Jaym up on comment 49?(or something close to that)
You aren’t alone. You sound sweet and wonderful and the kind of person I would like to meet or at least be friends with. I hope you see this and realize that 15 years is too long without a hug. I wish to give you one, so come over here and get one. We are family here on this blog and we all love you the way you are, because we realize that we aren’t perfect either. Sharing this smile to you. 😀

Big friendly-stranger-but-not-in-the-creepy-way hugs. Remember that depression evolved with our bigger brains to help us filter out stimulus so we can ponder. The world is a technological wonder because of depression. Good you know it will pass -life is in flux, it has no choice. So, as Mary Oliver says, let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

I too have suffered most of my life with depression and anxiety. I love your blog and you really help people. I wanted to suggest that you look up Deplin. It’s a form of folic acid that gets past the blood brain barrier and helps depression. There are no side effects and it is the only thing that has helped me in 30 years. Hang in there. We love you.

❤ I think these are the first pictures that i've ever seen of Hailey, and one thing stuck out: She has your smile. Your incredibly wide, infectious, smiling-to-your-bones smile. The kind of smile that even when you feel epically shitty, seeing it reminds you that this feeling? This really crappy awful thing your feeling? It's only temporary and there IS happiness even in the darkness. Hang in there. It's so great to feel a little less alone in these situations. Thank you for being truly you.

So interesting that this was your post today. Last night I had a dream that my crippling depression was back. I couldn’t get out of bed, wouldn’t talk to anyone, wouldn’t do anything, just felt NOTHING, which was the worst part of it for me, the overwhelming “MEH” I felt about absolutely everything.
Thank you for sharing what we all feel inside, the good, the bad and the really strange.

Next Friday, I will be taking the day off from work to drive 2.5 hours to Portland, Maine with my brother (plaidfox – was your comment of the day once and it kicked a$$). We will then take the train into Boston and then take the T to Brookline. I think our train back arrives back in Portland around 1:45 a.m., then the 2.5 hour drive home. I’m not trying to impress anyone with this post – but I’m trying to re-iterate, dear bloggess, that you are so worth it and that we cannot WAIT to meet you and hear you read your book. Thank you for being a voice for so many of us – your words have helped my family to understand what my brother and I go through. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. ❤

I am soooooooo NOT surprised that you would have a bout of depression now. The adrenaline crash after being on book tour for so long has got to be HUGE. That alone would take down anyone—-everyone. I would think it would be pretty akin to PTSD for you. I’m glad you were able to fake your way through it at Disney for Hailey.

My Childperson, her Husband, my one-year-old Grandchilperson, Grandchildperson’s best one-year-old Dude friend and his friend’s two Moms are all at Disney right now. They inadvertently chose Gay Days week, and that’s fine with everyone except for the fact that it will be extra crowded. But if they had realized it any sooner they would have had t-shirts made up (just to confuse the hell out of people). My son-in-law’s would have said “Husband.” Each Mom would have had “Wife” and each kid would have had “Child.” Imagine that group coming toward you on Gay Days at Disney—–Husband, Wife, Wife, Wife, Child, Child. It’s especially funny to us because it is true—they’re just not all HIS wives. People wouldn’t know whether this was some sort of gay combo or he was a polygamist!

Plus, the boys coincidentally have the same first name too. I won’t use their real names here, so let’s say “George” just for the sake of this. They already had matching Disney t-shirts made for the boys with their names on them before they left. So they could just go with Husband, Wife, Wife, Wife, “George,” “George,” and tell people that in Hubby’s family, the first born to each wife is always named George. So they’re still waiting on George #3 from the third wife……

I swear, I’d love to see people’s heads spin from that. Son-in-law could pull it off without laughing too.

our first trip to Disney World was just like that ~ it poured down rain, we got kicked out of the pool at the Nick Hotel for lightning, and when we finally got “slimed” it was in the pouring down rain ~ and we had a blast. But, we are from Seattle, so the warm rain was a huge step up for us lol Anyways, I wish your book tour would come to the Northwest so that I could give you a hug ~ Depression is a lying B and Anxiety is her evil twin. Thank you for being such an inspiration ❤

Depression is a stupid, lying asshole that doesn’t care how fabulous life is and how beautiful our daughters are. Maybe one day researchers will finally get our brain chemistry figured out well enough that we’ll have a treatment that works 100%, but, in the meantime, hang in there, sweet lady – thousands are pulling for you.

Thank you so much for this and all of your posts. I am glad that despite the weather Hailey had a great time and that you got to experience her joy with her. I hope that the liar goes away fast and that you get to enjoy your family and this exciting time in your career. Your words and those of the commenters have made my life a much better place.

Thank you for this post. I remember the first post I read of yours was one about depression. Your willingness and bravery to tackle these once-taboo issues is amazing. As is this community where everyone is so supportive of one another!

How can you not smile looking at the sheer joy on Hailey’s face? And is that an Alice in Wonderland dress she has on? That lucky little beotch. I want one. 🙂

This is a pretty amazing post. Thanks for your honesty and helping me understand depression better. Being open and vulnerable and truly yourself is a hard thing to do and you seem to do it really well. Thanks for the inspiration.

To wake in the morning, no dreams ahead
To cease to wonder, relinquish the awe
Of reverence for life, to defy God’s Law
And face the fact you’d be better off dead.
To sour from bittersweet surfeited
Yet starve in the (m/s)addness of your mind’s maw
Cornered, though you fight with red tooth and claw
Collapsing, the hour brands you instead
The Lowest Common Denominator.
Another statistic destined to fail
Though hope resists and the heart cries, “Traitor!”
Still love strives and your soul begins to rail
Against all odds, your Will stumbles and reels
Rising in pain, the phantom limb still feels.

I’m glad I found your blog and that you are so open about this disease. I hate that it is still a fairly taboo thing to talk about and most people just can’t understand it. I struggle so many days and the loneliness of it is awful. I often read your blog when I need a smile so thank you for that and for all of it.

My kids drive me to drink on occasion but then they’ll say something or so something so fabulous that all suddenly seems right with the world. Hailey sounds like a great kid, 7 year olds are a bit special, I’ve got one of my own who comes out with some corkers!
I too suffer with depression and anxiety, and you, madam, are also (a) inspiring and (b) good to read for a cheer up and friendly word when I’m surfing the web at night cos I can’t sleep. Like now:-).

Oh, I’ve worried about you over the past couple of months, with the whirlwind of work and attention. I know it’s awesome, but it is so stressful too. And that is so you to spend your time off giving something wonderful to your daughter instead of just curling up in the dark to recuperate.

I wear my “Depression is a lying bastard” shirt proudly. You inspire me along with everyone else. Take care of yourself, wonderful creature.

When my peripheral vision starts to fade, it is a sign that I am focusing too much on the stuff inside my head and not enough on the world around me. And when I start paying too much attention to my own ruminations, imaginations, and anxieties, I stop engaging with people and with life. That’s where my depression comes from. This is my experience – I don’t know if it’s yours too.

It’s great that you can recognize when you are starting to disengage. You have an awesome family and some wonderful people in your life – I hope that when you start to feel depressed, engaging with them will help you to get out of your head and away from the isolatedness that leads into depression. It helps me – I hope it will help you.

BTW – I kept finding myself laughing out loud while reading your book. I can’t remember the last book that made me do that.

I hesitate to write because there’s no way I can tell you something more inspired or eloquent than any of the ten bajillion other commenters have, but then I decided that you should probably know just how many people you reach. How many people you touch.

I wouldn’t say that I have depression, but you have helped me understand it. Now I can understand where people are coming from when depression is lying to them. You haven’t just helped me; you’ve helped them too. And those 20 people? Maybe you’re right that the commenters saved their lives…but YOU wrote the post that facilitated the comments. You facilitate life and happiness and reality and whimsy all at once. Thank you.

You may not read this but incase you did, I wanted to tell you that you have saved my life as well. I dont talk to many people about what my depression tells me and what it makes me think. Many of my family and friends say that its all in my head and I’m fine. Im not fine! I have a two black eyes to prove it. Ive never hurt myself before. Days seem worse than others. I come to your blog every day b/c here I know that Im not alone and I read and re-read your posts. I watch your video on depression over and over. Like I said I know you may not read this, but incase you do, there are really no words for me to express my thankfullness.

My husband and I both have varying degrees of depression his is far more severe than mine. The difference is I have the tools (through many meds, and years of therapy) and my coping mechanisms kick in instantly when life happens. Right now we are dealing with my in-laws invading our lives and the havoc that is creating in our marriage. My husbands coping mechanism is to shut down completely and I feel like I have to make him happy again. This causes me to become emotionally exhausted and I end up in a more severe state than him.

I have read this post over and over and I am thanking you because it has reminded me that I cannot fix everything (control freak much?) and that sometimes you need to allow things to work themselves out and pass on their own. You have helped me to better understand my husbands emotional state and to realize I am forcing him to “be” happy solely because I don’t want to see him depressed (how selfish huh).

You are an inspiration and I am grateful you are among us on the interwebs!

My kids remind me everyday that joy is there if you just bother to look. They show it to me when I’m too blind or absorbed in something else to see it. I have someone in my family who has suffered with depression for over 40 years and sometimes I find myself playing the part for her that my kids play for me. We’ll talk on the phone and I can hear the darkness in her voice and I will say something little that will make her laugh out loud and for a moment I can hear her spirits raise…and it makes me hope that the little moments like that help drive out the darkness.

“This isn’t a post about forcing yourself to just smile and ‘be happy’ because anyone with true depression knows this isn’t an option”

Yes. Such truth. And still, every time that 2 ton gorilla is sitting on my damn soul, I feel guilty and weak, because I am not smiling and “being happy.” Which, funny enough, does NOT help with depression.

Thank-you for continuing on, for being open and honest about this, for crying foul on the shame that so often accompanies depression. You are truly a light.

I needed this today. I too have chronic depression, and lately have had to switch medications because I’m attempting to get pregnant. The new medication isn’t as effective and I’m having some difficult days. Every little spark of light helps. Thank you, Jenny, and thank you, other Bloggess commenters.

Depression is the black bird pecking away, endlessly at a soul. But somehow it is important to remember people count on each of us. Our kids, our spouses, our family, the checkout person at the grocery store whose day just got better because you complimented her, the helpful person at the bank had a better day because you thanked her. The dog did his happy dance when you got up. The cat pretended to ignore you but really cares. These are the important parts of life. You are needed whether you realize it or not.
You book makes me laugh. You are needed by SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO many people.

I feel like its posts like this that make you the most wonderful person on the internet. You’re funny and random, but when posts like these come up they remind me to be mindful of my own depression. I know depression lies, but its so easy to forget. I’ve only just recently started coming out of my counselling appointments /not in tears/ and I’m beating this thing for what feels like the millionth time. Little reminders on a blog I frequently visit helps.
Thank you for being the wonderful person that you are.

Aww. I was going to wish you blessings as you try to pass through this bout, but it sounds as if you already know how blessed you are despite all you face. Strength in numbers.

My SIL suffers from depression as well. It’s hard on the people who suffer along with her, but I imagine it’s a million times harder to suffer from it. I’m grateful for relatively good health, and I’m grateful for your enormous sense of humor in the face of adversity. Still, my wish for you is that the drugs and other treatments are helping more than they are hurting and you find yourself laughing in the rain too.

Mi amore, you are an amazing woman. I have made my own “anxiety lies” and “furiously happy” braclets to wear as needed. I will gladly share pictures once I get the happy one finished.
AND Survival Straps has made Ribbon straps, and they have silver! http://www.survivalstraps.com/ribbon-collection/silver-ribbon.html
Now you can have a reminder that depression is a lying bastard who deserves to be punched in the gnads AND have a handy bracelet in case you need some paracord! It is a wonderful product! And they give some of their proceeds to Wounded Warriors, who also suffer heavily from mental illness and need to be reminded that sometimes your brain is a lying sack of shit.
Love you and all that you do!

It’s incredible to think that the person we rely on for so much humor on a daily basis has depression. But you’re human after all… and welcome to the [depression] club. I’ve had many of the same days you just described. You are certainly not alone.

I swear, depression is the crowned king of asshole mountain. Fuck depression. Fuck it with the business end of a cactus.
I know I’ve said it before, but I’m all about repitition. You are insanely brave and intensely beautiful for sharing your experiences with this. Thank you for doing what you do.

Man, getting to the bottom of this page was rougher than walking around Disney. Having lived in Florida my entire life, I know it’s a bitch and a half.

I’ve suffered from depression and, sometimes, manic behavior. I cognitively know that it’s a lie, but in the moment it… is… so… damn… hard. It is exactly how you described it- peripheral vision fades and I find myself at the wrong side of a long tunnel separated from everyone and everything I love.

The reason that the funniest people you know are also those with the hidden mental illnesses is because crying only makes it worse (via the sympathy which only exasperates the situation) and laughing is the only organic way to get those tiny highs in the hole we’re living in that keep us from filling in the top with dirt. The dirt doesn’t have to be organic, just the high because last thing depressed individuals need is manure/fertilizer stinkin’ up the place. Man, now that would suck. ^.^

Thank you. I’m sending this to my daughter. She needs it today. And thank you for Beyonce, by the way. I’m still looking for mine.

Much love to a total stranger . . . because if you weren’t here, if those 20 people weren’t here, if the ones we don’t know about weren’t here, then there would be so many holes, empty places, vacuums, dark pits, questions, guilt, and more in the ones left behind who love you so much. We all need each other.

I know, because my uncle took his own life because he couldn’t bear to think of living on without his true love WHO TOOK HER OWN LIFE, just days before he did, because she couldn’t bear the thought of living out her life with a disease with which she’d just been diagnosed. Here we are 48 years later and I still miss him. My Dad misses him. Their children miss them. When we’re in the pit, listening to the lies, we don’t think of the ripples in the pond and who is going to be affected by them down the road. So thank you for your honesty and your willingness to to share. We all can bless each other.

Trying not to cry, beautiful post. I wish I would have found you years ago as it took me a long time to get help and I feel like I “wasted” many years to depression. I try to focus on the good and that I DID finally get help! I too have stared suicide in the face but managed to talk myself into living each morning. Thank goodness for that!

I know what you mean about peripheral vision. I think it’s good that there’s warning signs because often I don’t notice them until it’s too late.

Your willingness to talk about your struggles with depression is one of the reasons I felt safe to post about mine. Thank you for saying out loud what so many of us have hidden from the world for years. I’m in a good place right now, but I know not to let me guard down because it always has the potential to return. Keep fighting and sharing. You are more amazing than you know.

Keep writing. Keep being honest. Keep making people laugh their heads off. Keep looking at your daughter’s luminous smile. Keep fighting the good fight. We’re all out here. You’re never alone. Even when you’re naked. ~Jen

Well, to be honest…Di$ney makes me depressed no matter the weather or mental state. I live within driving distance, and I can think of 1000 other places I’d rather be, and that includes the dentist’s chair and maybe the stirrups, if the speculum’s been pre-warmed.

I hope this time it is short and mild. Keep breathing and you will come out the otherside.

Thank you for your honesty. My therapist asked me yesterday if I could see that my “issues” make me more interesting not worthless? And I couldn’t absorb what she meant until I read this post, that you are more for having these challenges and not less. I have a hard time feeling anything but ashamed about things, but maybe if you can I can too.

Sometimes I get so overwhelmed, even when I’m not in that dark pit, because I know that I will face it again and again and again. But then I remember: I survived it again and again and again. So just remember, beautiful girl, that you will kick its ass this time, too….and again and again and again.

For me the worst thing is being fine one day and waking up the next day in a funk. The inability to feel or care. The inability to write the good stuff. And I forget I have depression so that when it hits me I wonder what the heck is wrong with me. Like the medications I take are for something else. Of course several of my meds are for other things, but the zoloft, it’s there for a reason. Duh.

Thank you and may the force be with you in the dark times. I can relate, I’ve been there listening to the lies and trying so very very hard not to believe them…telling people is hard, there are very very few people I’ve ever shared with and I thank you for being very public and honest about your depression.

I recently started reading your blog but did not know that you suffer with depression. Thank you for speaking out about it and showing everyone that is is not a dirty little secret like so many people think. I was always taught to put on my happy face and that is so exhausting. It is wonderful to read the comments and to know that so many other people are feeling what I’m feeling. Thank you!

Jenny, I’ve said this before but I’ll say it again..and again…and (forgive me) again. Another amazing author/blogger at the Gaithersburg Book Festival said that the difference between the two of you is that your readers LOVE each other, while hers seem to hate each other. We are a tribe. Thank you for bringing us together. We truly do love you and each other.

I’ve struggled with depression for nigh 20 years. But I’m almost 50 years old so I’ve got a lot of coping tools in my tool bag. That doesn’t make it suck any less but at least I’ve learned how to get by and still care for my family when it flares up. My husband’s 15 year old daughter, my step-daughter, was hospitalized last week for severe depression and suicidal thoughts. She’s still there and everyone involved is sick with worry. My husband and the child’s mother are on great terms and still co-parent and cooperate beautifully. I have great hope for his daughter and I think she has a strong support system. But I wanted to let you, Jenny, know that I told him to tell her that depression is a lying bastard asshat and that it tells you over and over that you CAN’T when you bloody well can. He reported that she laughed when he said it and it made her feel a little bit better. Thank you for giving me those words and in turn giving them to her. Thank you.

Jenny-Don’t ever forget that you have people who love you. Complete strangers who love you! Hugs to you and all the others out there.
And also if you see this and wouldn’t mind getting the word out for this lady:
Charity Print Sales

Lee Daniels is feisty, loving, friendly, a magnificent professional writer and fine art photographer. She’s an elementary school teacher who continues to teach, love and praise others. She was recently diagnosed with small cell lung cancer. Because of her health situation she’s unable to get out and take pictures. Like most independent photographers she doesn’t have health insurance. You can imagine the stress and pain this would cause. Lee is a fighter. Let’s help her win this fight.

We are a community of photographers who are providing our photographs for a special price to benefit Lee Daniels in her time of need. All proceeds from the sale of prints in the gallery below will be donated to Lee Daniels to help her with the medical costs of cancer treatments. The prints will be sold and fulfilled through SmugMug and Bay Photo Lab.

+SmugMug is allowing us, the photographers of +Google+ a weeks time to upload one picture each that will be up for sale over the course of one month. The proceeds of these pictures will go directly to help Lee Daniels in her time of need.

I WANT to believe the depression is lying. I WANT to believe that there are people who love me in this world and can see the worth in me even when I have spent months as an isolationist zombie version of myself. I WANT to believe I have a future. Right now, it’s incredibly hard to believe those things, because every ounce of the evil in this disease is seeping into the cracks of my broken mind, poisoning it with negativity and shame. Shame over wasted potential … but on a smaller scale just shame that I wasted food, or messed up at work and stuck my foot in it, or that I didn’t brush my damn teeth, or that I haven’t been able to open a pile of bills because then I have to face life like a real human being. I know pride is, well, prideful. And I know I should humbly ask both God and the people who love me for help, but the whole thing is just so humiliating. It’s embarrassing to know somewhere in the back of my mind that I am a smart, loving, and capable adult woman … who has become a lump of blah.

But the good news is that I WANT to believe what you’re saying. I really, really do. As scary as it is to face myself in the mirror again and pick up all the pieces of myself I’ve misplaced, I WANT to find the strength to do it. It would be so much easier just to curl up in the fetal position until everyone has forgotten who I am, but the right decision is rarely the easy one, I think. So today I shampooed my hair, and ate a ‘real’ breakfast and put on my brave face. Here goes nothing. 🙂

When my son was in 4th grade, I chaperoned his end of year field trip to Hershey Park. Half way thru a very fun, roller-coaster filled day, the skies opened up. Torrential downpour, lightening, closed rides, a loooong sprint through it all back to the buses. I thought he’d be terribly disappointed that the day got cut short. To this day he refers to it as The Best Field Trip EVER. Kids are awesome.
Try not to feel pressured to be funny when you don’t feel like being funny. You don’t always have to be the entertainer. Some days you just don’t have it in you and you need to try to give yourself a break on those days. Ride it out. We’ll be here when you get back.

The thing that struck me the most about this post is realizing that your serious posts always have the highest number of comments. It says a hell of a lot about this gaggle of weirdos. It’s really easy to read a funny post, laugh & maybe leave a funny comment. To take the time to send heartfelt messages to uplift & inspire others or to make comments that can make us laugh in the face of such a serious topic, well I think that proves that your blog has created the best gang of batshit-crazy fuckups the likes of which have never been seen before. And it makes me proud to be able to identify & relate to said fuckups so profoundly. Thank you for being so brave & creating a forum for others to be brave as well.

Fuck the hokey pokey, being the best kind of weird IS what it’s all about!

I share your posts and shared your book with my teenage daughters and I plan to share this post as well. Laughing in spite of the rain/Laughing because of the rain is such a wonderful mantra for those nasty times when all you want to do is think about things tomorrow. Thank you for saying the things that I have in my brain but can’t put into words.

As someone who spends most of her time plagued with insecurities about needing to be funny, you saying that you need some time to not be funny resonated with me in a really personal way that I haven’t been able to describe to anyone before. I was raised to make people laugh, to only get the attention I needed required me to be funnier each time I saw them. Feeling the need to ALWAYS crack jokes for every friend and boyfriend left me with bouts of depression. “Would they like me if I didn’t make them laugh?” “Am I worth liking if I don’t?” I spent my dating life trying to impress men, then when I did, wonder why I still felt so lonely.

I’m getting better about it. My boyfriend now let’s me feel at ease to just be myself, funny or not, and that helps quite a bit. I try to only write jokes for avenues that I feel comfortable with, and this blog has made me determined to start my own. Sometimes still, I wonder what I’m worth if I’m not entertaining other people. But now that I’ve read that the funniest person I’ve ever read has some of those feelings sometimes, I’m not going to mentally punish myself anymore or think that needing a “break” from being funny means that I’ve lost something vital about myself. Thank you so much for helping me.

I’m praying for you and your bouts of depression. You inspire me, Lady. You keep me plugging away at my novel…even if it’s only one paragraph at a time. And so far, even on the bad days when my kids are fighting and tattling and driving me insane and I’m questioning the wisdom of my decision to quit drinking, I still haven’t murdered all my characters off and replaced them with shiny vampires who have 50 shades of hot monkey sex.

ugh- one of my daughter’s friends- 13 years old- killed himself a few weeks ago. i only wish he had had an outlet- middle school is hard. it’s also hard to know how to deal with the aftermath. my daughter says everyone is ‘just trying to forget about it.’ i know her middle school had counselors available for the students, but a few weeks pass, then it’s ‘back to normal.’ i told my girl all the things a parent should- ‘you can always talk to me, don’t ever think it won’t get better, etc.’ but is that enough? if adults struggle mightily, how in the world can we better equip middle schoolers and young people?
you don’t need to answer- i’m only posting because suicide, depression, bullying hit close to home recently. thank you for doing your part- using your blog- to help the hurting.

I’m trying so hard to hang onto those two little words, in the hopes that they can save me. Right now it is really hard, I’m not seeing any light at the end of the tunnel, and giving up seems so much easier.

I just typed in your website to tell you that I saw your book at chapters a few days ago and thought it was so crazy and cool to read your blogs and see your very own book right in front of me. And then i Read this post and thought, wow! you strong woman. Sometimes I feel the same way and it sucks. The worst part is that i am a compulsively positive person and to still have those bouts of depression makes me wonder why I am not capable of controlling it. Its frustrating that it comes in waves. But it is also a relief to see that someone that is as famous as your are, that has a book published in chain-bookstores and have…600 comments on one blog post still has the courage to say that you have depression. That means a lot. Thank you for letting me and everyone else know that not everyone is perfect. No matter how much success we have.

to paraphrase a mediocre sci-fi flik: you aren’t crying because it’s raining; it’s raining because you’re crying. turning a puddle into a playground is something we should all strive to do, at least part of the time.

I only recently began reading your blog and instantly became hooked. I am half way through your book and have been late coming back to work from lunch twice this week because I can’t stop reading half way through a chapter.
If you come to Jacksonville, FLorida or St. Augustine, FLorida, I would SO give you a monkey skull. And that is NOT a sexual innuendo… a for real monkey skull, because I LOVE your writing and it has made my life better.

I’ve noticed that sometimes after a bout of good things, depression is more liable to eat me. It’s almost as if the good stuff uses up my capacity for happiness and leaves me with a deficit. You’ve been having a lot of amazing stuff happen, lately. It sounds odd, but maybe you should baby yourself a little to recover from all the good stuff. Maybe a nice hot bath? I’d suggest a new mouse but that might be too exciting.

Know what? You are strangely hilarious, but I love you when you’re serious too. I love your blog because you are the real deal, weasels and all. There should be a Bloggess parade, but we all get to walk in it and throw candy and wave at each other.

And this is why your blog will ALWAYS be the top of the list when I click the ‘favorites’ button. Because some days, more than I wish to count, I need this blog. Keep being you, and thanks for letting us be us. I’ll see you on the light side of the tunnel- we’re waiting patiently with big hugs =)

You and I are totally worth the most outlandish red dress we can get our hands on.
As someone who is locked in a major battle with the lying beast, and because it is raining outside right now, I think I will go out there and jump in the puddles and catch the rain drops (and possibly cholera) with my tongue. This will piss off the lying beast and maybe he will go away and leave me alone again.

Thank you, so much.
You are my only connection within the depression community, and you are so many miles away (I’m from the UK) but still, you remind me of the light at the end, if I just wait out the spiralling.

I want you to know how much reading that depression lies really helps. I was having a bad weekend/week. I started feeling like a worthless freak because I couldn’t be happy cleaning my house or with the fact that it was clean. I felt tremendously unhappy about it all thinking that I am broken because I hate doing any of that stuff. I’m good at it but I hate it. I kept feeling like I was being forced to be someone I wasn’t and that when I complied no one noticed, cared or loved me anymore for it. Then I thought about what you said about depression lying. I realized what was going on and weathered the storm. Today I feel better than yesterday and infinitely better than the days before. The important part is, like you say, to see past the lie and find your way to the other side.

wow. i was actually thinking about this the other day. I was “forced” to go to a VW car show by my boyfriend. He also wanted to sell stuff at the swap meet, so we were hanging there for like 40 hours…ok like 5 but still…I actually had a good time. I made the best of it. Normally I would whine by the 2nd half hour, but for some reason I was ok.
It’s funny how depression can sneak up on you. I am part of this study on bipolar disorder and i got interviewed by this lady and she was asking me all sorts of questions and i realized that I never had some sort of cycle, I didn’t know when it was really coming or when it was leaving. I just prayed for it to leave me alone.
I hope your depression passes like a gray cloud in the sky and turns into a sunny day for you soon.
hugs,
jacky

I really appreciate reading these posts after my little dude’s recent diagnosis…at least I have a teensy bit more insight into what he must be feeling. You’re my homie, yo. Give yourself a kiss on the tip of your nose for me.

A little late to the comments here, but just wanted to add that there is always hope. I suffered with depression for over 40 years, but it’s gone and has been for five years and it’s not coming back. I don’t know why, no lectures or sermons to give. Yes, it does lie. Yes, it can go away. I’m so glad I didn’t go through with the endless suicide plans.

I grew up in Seattle, and spent most of my life in the Northwest, so I am well-versed in rain. My experience is that it is not the rain on your self that is unpleasant, but the rain on all the stuff you carry around. Rain on clothes or glasses sucks. Rain on hair you are worried about keeping fancy sucks. Best solution? Don’t care what your hair looks like, get naked, and go out dancing in it when it rains. It is delightful. I can’t be certain the metaphor holds up…but I think it does…either that, or I am just a general proponant of nudity.

Thanks for articulating it so well. I think on the bad days, I feel like I want to crawl out of my skin. Then the day comes when I’ve “turned the corner” and I know it will be OK. Thank you for showing it so well.

Knowing that the hole is temporary is key. Knowing that depression is like the ocean’s tides which can overwhelm and typhoon and destroy but will always, ALWAYS recede if given the right amount of time and patience is what gets me through my lowest moments. Also, knowing that it isn’t really ME. The way I feel right now? This is me. The way I will probably feel in a few months when my sunshine is gone and pressures become greater and stress and depression will crash over my head again? That is not ME.

Your posts like this just make my heart feel like it’s going to explode. Both because of the people who have been helped and because you have such wonderful clarity about how impossible depression can be…but that it doesn’t have to be. Thank you.
Erin recently posted..Hoarding Glass Jars”
and my brain (which is often co-conscious) read that Erin’s glass heart was going to explode – which is way worse than depression. I mean an exploding glass heart could take out a lot of people.

I probably shouldn’t read when more than alter is out. It makes for some messed up sentences. Erin, I’m glad your heart is not made of glass or literally exploding.

Wow. I was just feeling incredible alone and lonely- not the there’s-no one-here loneliness, but the my-family-is-in-the-next-room-and-still-wouldn’t-notice-if-I-died loneliness. How timely to be reminded that I am really not alone in the world. Thank you! And thank you for writing a book that made me laugh so hard that I gave myself an asthma attack and puked (and, no, I’m not making that shit up).

@ tracey, I agree that knowing the hole is temporary is important, but the critical thing for me was realizing that it was a hole. I just kinda thought “everybody feels this way, everybody secretly reacts like this, life just basically sucks,” until one day I somehow had enough of a glimmer of hope to make an appointment with a therapist who spent months teaching me that my hole wasn’t in fact the whole of life. I still struggle with accepting depression as a physical disease and not just a reaction to “the new normal” modern life, but at least I know for sure that there is something better out there.

To recall all the times, in all the different years, that I thought I had this thing beat once and for all…only to find myself back at the edge of the cliff.

“Whoever destroys a soul, it is considered as if he destroyed an entire world. And whoever saves a life, it is considered as if he saved an entire world.” – Mishnah Sanhedrin 4:5; Babylonian Talmud Tract